


Everybody Knows You're Lost

by IsVampirismGay



Category: Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: 80's Music, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Drugs, F/M, Glam Rock, M/M, Not Beta Read, Nothing Too Graphic But I Still Wanted To Include The Tags Just In Case, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Some Humor, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2020-10-24 06:44:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20701652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsVampirismGay/pseuds/IsVampirismGay
Summary: On pictures they were a group of guys who play music together and on TV and radio they were the sort of music that was a bit to fast, too heavy, too loud for Sam.On stage they were fucking gods.-----------------------------The Lost Boys is a young glam metal band on the verge of wordwide fame and Michael and Star go on a concert.expect dumbassery, drama and everything rock n roll!





	1. You Wanna Rock?

**Author's Note:**

> a comment on my post about Poison, the 80's glam band sent me into writing frenzy and somehow i put out one 4k chapter in literally two sittings. this is gonna be a long fucking ride so buckle down kids
> 
> I also created a playlist for the concert which can be found here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/32yWcgCMH0rclEZQKQQAxl
> 
> the fic and first chapter title come from The 69 Eyes song Lost Boys, included on the playlist and the piece of lyrics in this chapter is from All Looks, No Hooks by Crazy Lixx, also included in the playlist.
> 
> enjoy!

These days home was mostly filled with tense silence and passive-aggressive slamming of the doors. It drove Michael crazy.

Mom and Dad used to argue all the time. It was bad, it sometimes made Sam cry and even though Michael hid that, it sometimes made him cry too. One day mom has had enough and finally started the divorce process. It was strange, how dad managed to go from constantly criticizing, controlling and arguing with everyone to completely ignoring whole household.

Dad was home all day and his sullen silence penetrated through the walls of their apartment. It made Michael feel like crawling out of his _skin._ He walked into Sam’s room and told him to get dressed because they were taking Nanook for a walk. He needed to take a breath and Sam probably did too.

Hell, Sam used to spend whole days watching MTV and listening to latest hits, but the TV wasn’t even touched that day. He still had his comicbooks, but it still must have been driving him insane.

* * *

It was evening and Michael and Sam were walking around with Nanook. The streets seemed flooded with teenagers and young adults, all chattering excitedly. The posters glued all around the city were advertising for a rock concert, young and wild _The Lost Boys _coming to town to raise hell and make girls swoon.

“They’re all over MTV these days,” said Sam, gesturing at one of the posters. “A bit too heavy and dark for me, though.”

Michael looked at the poster again. The singer on the photo was looking straight at the camera with a hypnotic stare. On his left there was the drummer, chewing on his glove and drumstick tucked behind his ear. The bassist was draped all over him, a goofy smile on his lips and the bass held in his hands like a weapon. On the other side there was the guitarist, casually leaning on the singer and holding his guitar over his shoulder. They looked like a rock band alright.

“Going to the concert too, boys?” asked a soft voice behind them. Michael swirled around to look at the stranger. She was probably the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, strangely ethereal and dreamy with her big dark eyes and sparkly stones adorning her clothes. The glow of the streetlights filtered through her hair, borrowing her an otherworldly halo.

Sam snorted, breaking the spell. “No thanks, they’re _way _too heavy. Ugh,” he said, wrinkling his nose.

The mystery girl kept looking at Michael. “How about you?” she said, dark lips curling around the words.

Michael just kept staring at her mouth, almost as if he was in shock in the face of her beauty. Sam not-so-subtly elbowed him.

“Uh, yeah, I mean no, I mean I don’t know,” he stammered, making the girl laugh.

“Well, I have a ticket spare since a friend bailed on me, so if you wanna come...” she trailed off, flashing a brilliant smile to Michael and digging into her purse.

“Uh, sure,” said Michael awkwardly. Sam turned around, pretending to be occupied with Nanook and facepalming extensively.

“Okay, here you go,” said the girl, handing Michael the ticket. We should get going if we want to get a good spot.”

“Sure,” nodded Michael. He turned to Sam. “Can you go home by yourself?” he asked.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m not a _baby,_ I can do things alone,” he said indignantly.

“Okay, tell mom I’m going to a concert and not to worry, alright?” Michael ruffled Sam’s hair and waved him goodbye.

“Bye, I’ll see you later!” He turned towards the girl, offering his arm.

“Wait!” shouted Sam, making Michael whip his head around. “I need the keys!”

“Oh,” laughed Michael, blushing when the girl giggled. He dug in his pockets, tossing Sam the keys.

“Leave my window open so I don’t have to wake up the folks, alright?”

“Sure! Have fun and don’t do anything stupid!” shouted Sam and quickly bolted out of Michael’s reach before he could give him a noogie.

Michael laughed and turned back to the girl at his side. “Shall we?” he asked.

She giggled and took his arm. Together they walked towards the arena.

* * *

“What’s your name anyway?” asked Michael.

The girl’s smile faltered for a moment, but it immediately returned. “Star,” she answered.

“So your parents too?” asked Michael, a goofy smile on his face.

“What?” asked Star, confused.

“Ex hippies. Mine were too. I came this close,” said Michael, almost pinching the air to illustrate his point, “This fucking close to being called Moonbeam or Moonchild.” He laughed, Star joining in with her clear voice.

“But yeah, Star is good, I like Star,” said Michael, unsuccessfully trying to cover up his awkwardness.

Star laughed again, voice chiming like a crystallic little waterfall. “And what is _your _name?” she asked, looking up at Michael expectantly.

“Uh, Michael.”

Star laughed. “Michael is good, I like Michael,” she parroted, making Michael laugh too.

They were already at the venue, the line already forming in front of the entrance. They arrived last moment – if they were just a few minutes late there would be already so many people that they would never get a good spot in the crowd.

“So, which is your favorite song from these guys?” asked Star.

“I actually don’t know more than maybe three or four of their songs,” sheepishly admitted Michael.

“It’s alright,” Star assured him. “Their shows are amazing, I’m sure you’ll like it anyway.”

Michael chuckled awkwardly and mumbled a thanks. “What is _your _favorite song then?”

“Oh!” Star practically glowed at the thought. “It must be _We Own The Night, _it just makes me so happy and want to dance and party so hard!”

“I actually know that song,” said Michael. “So you’re a party girl, huh?” he asked, tossing her a mischievous smile.

Star giggled. “Tonight I am,” she said and leaned on Michael’s side. “Gonna party and have fun with me?”

Michael wrapped his arm around her waist. “Of course,” he said, relishing in the warmth of her body.

“So, from these maybe four songs that you actually know,” she said, nuzzling into his chest, “Which one is your fave?”

“Hmmm,” mused Michael, “I guess it’s _So Alive._”

“Interesting choice,” said Star. “Are you a vampire or what?” she laughed, looking up at his face. “Are you gonna bite me and drink my blood?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at him jokingly.

_God, she looks so good._

Michael laughed uncomfortably, with unexpected fire roaring in his gut.

_What a way to discover that I have a thing for love bites, though._

The entrance to the venue opened and the line started slowly disappearing inside. Star unglued herself from Michael’s side so they could walk easier and he found himself missing the warmth of her body pressed at his.

* * *

They managed to find a spot in the front row, right on the right edge of the stage.

“We are _so_ gonna be deaf,” said Michael, looking up at a giant stack of speakers that was positioned right next to them.

“I know right?” laughed Star, turning her head to shoot a smile at Michael. “But don’t worry, you’re gonna love it!”

She was leaning on the fence separating the audience from the stage. Michael was standing right behind her, his arms bracketing her and body shielding her from any potential madness that might happen in the crowd.

“So what’s the opening act?” asked Michael in between the noise from the sound check. 

“Tim Capello and his band. Some guy with saxophone, I think?”

* * *

“_Oh _my _God, _he’s so oily!”

“And buff!”

“Would you look at those _hips, _how he’s _thrusting_ with them!”

“Well, do you _still believe, _Michael?”

* * *

The opening band has finished their set and now the stage was getting set for _The Lost Boys_.

“Hey, Star.”

“What?”

“Would you like it if I moved my hips the way that oily sax dude did?”

Both Michael and Star dissolved in giggles, both pleasantly buzzed from alcohol. 

It was a good night.

* * *

After what seemed to be both whole eternity and barely a moment the lights finally dimmed and the smoke machines puffed up clouds of mist. Star tensed up in anticipation, everyone was screaming even though the band didn’t even appear on stage yet and Michael found himself screaming too, the adrenaline from the audience pumping in his veins too.

The drummer, a tiny skinny guy with a mop of curls and a crop top finally walked on the stage, raising his hand. The noise of the crowd grew so loud it stopped registering in Michael’s head. He was still screaming, he realized, but he didn’t feel like stopping. The drummer sat down and started beating a simple rhythm.

A muddy bass riff rumbled through the venue, shaking everyone’s bones with its deep resonance. The bassist jumped on stage in a blur of unrestrained energy, his coat and many scarves trailing behind him. He stopped at the monitor at the opposite side of the stage than Michael and Star. He leaned forward towards the audience, bouncing on spot, practically vibrating with excitement.

The drummer hit the cymbals and the whole place erupted into a song, the heavy distortion of a guitar cutting through Michael’s eardrums. The guitarist walked on stage in long but sure steps, stopping right in front of Star and Michael. Up close he was every bit the young handsome man from the poster, banging his head to the music and dexterous fingers dancing over the guitar’s neck.

Star was going crazy, screaming and headbanging as if the spirit of the music possessed her body. Michael was overwhelmed by all the noise, sweat, energy and music that he felt all his higher brain functions turn off. He let his body do whatever, moving to the beat together with the rest of the people.

There was a splash of something right on his head – probably beer – but he didn’t care, he was already all sweaty and heated and by the end of the night he was bound to be soaked either way.

The screaming of the crowd reached a new crescendo and Michael could see a figure in a long dark coat emerge on stage. He sauntered towards the mic stand on the center of the stage.

“Come on, Phoenix, let’s go!” he screamed, the grit from his voice finding its way through Michael’s gut, igniting something deep down inside him.

The barrage of sound from the stage screeched to a hold.

And then it came back crashing down, washing over Michael, the too-loud noise of the drums, bass, guitar and singer’s voice cutting straight through him.

* * *

On pictures they were a group of guys who play music together and on TV and radio they were the sort of music that was a bit to fast, too heavy, too loud for Sam.

On stage they were fucking _gods._

* * *

The rush of the first song ended abruptly, leaving Michael out of breath and completely soaked in a mixture of sweat, beer and God knows what. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, making the band smile conspiratorially to themselves.

The bassist slung his bass on his back and started climbing the giant stack of speakers in front of Star and Michael. A worried man in a T-shirt labeled “SECURITY” scurried after him, but the rocker was already pulling himself on top of the tower of black boxes. He smiled triumphantly and winked at the crowd below.

Even though he was just another face in the crowd, Michael felt like he was directly being winked to. He blushed, eyes not leaving the admittedly appealing form standing above him.

The bassist brought his instrument back on the front, adjusting his hold. There was a beat where everyone in the arena held their breath in the anticipation of the next song.

Fingers flew over the strings, bass growling and the whole place went crazy, screeching in excitement of the next song.

“Scream!” yelled the singer, “For! A-dre-na-line!” and Michael was screaming too, stripping his throat raw.

The bassist gave the venue a smug smile before leaping off the speakers right into the crowd. 

* * *

Michael could feel the impact of his fall even though he landed a bit further away from him. People staggered and fell onto each other, but immediately the next moment they got dragged upright by their friends and they carried the bassist all around.

Michael swiveled his head around, trying to see him through the forest of outstretched hands. There was a familiar flailing leg in moderate proximity, but it kept moving away. Frustrated by how he couldn’t see anything, Michael turned back towards the stage where the guitarist was doing his best to unscrew his head off his shoulders via headbanging.

The singer was at the opposite side of the stage, leaning towards the reaching hands of the audience. He turned towards Michael’s side of the stage, singing and walked over. His presence was magnificent: the moment he looked in the general direction of Michael, it seemed as if the whole world narrowed to just the small fraction of the stage that was between the two of them.

The vocalist laughed in the mic, locking eyes with Michael before turning away, leaving him dazed.

Only for the bassist to _crash_ straight on Michael’s head, almost squishing poor Star and probably almost giving him spinal injury. Michael cursed himself for not paying enough attention to the bassist and helped the rest of the people lift up his torso. He somehow lost his coat in the process, probably getting torn and taken by rabid fans, leaving only a mesh shirt. His skin felt strangely cool against Michael’s heated hands, prompting Michael to wonder about man’s health.

Then he realized that he was _touching the bassist of The Lost Boys holy shit _and then he helped him get back on the stage. The nervous security man scrambled to help him get on his feet, even though the bassist seemed more interested in rolling on the floor and kicking the air.

Michael laughed at his antics and shook his head.

* * *

The screaming of the crowd was interrupted by a mournful tone of the guitar. The singer, now finally shedding his coat and holding a guitar returned to the mic stand.

He started singing, his usually rough and loud voice now low and gentle. The song picked up some power and edge, but the singer was still strangely mellow and raw, mouth moving gently in front of the microphone, almost as if he was scared that if he vocalized too roughly he’d damage the device.

Michael blinked a few times, wondering where did the tears come from. They were sitting in the corners of his eyes, glazing his sight, but refusing to fall. Star in front of him was crying openly and singing along. The song lulled to a stop, leaving only the guitarist plucking clear tones and the singer raising his hand to almost caress the microphone as he sang.

Then the guitarist hit a pedal, singer grabbed the mic in a death grip and _screamed._

* * *

There were tears on Star’s face, leaving trails of mascara and eyeliner, there were tears on Michael’s face and the way that sweat glittered on singer’s face, it seemed like there were tears on his face as well.

With a final scream and distorted chord the song ended.

Michael felt hollow, as if the song has drained all his emotions, leaving nothing behind. He brought his hand to his face, wiping the tears off. Star was wiping her face too and so were other people around.

The band was refreshing, drinking water, wiping off sweat and tuning their instruments. The guitarist finally got rid of his racket, revealing a ridiculously sculpted body underneath.

They gripped their instruments again, guitars ringing through the venue and the drums joining in with a disco-like beat.

“This is my favorite song!” screamed Star, turning around to see Michael, flashing her blinding smile.

The whole place seemed to start jumping, more beer splashing on people’s heads. The concert turned into an almost goth disco party, bodies pulsing to the music and people singing along.

The band seemed to take this as an opportunity to get goofy, with the bassist using his own head to aid the drummer in hitting the cymbals. The guitarist was standing just a bit behind the singer, imitating his expressions with hilarious accuracy and running away the moment the singer turned around.

Michael laughed at them, loosening the tension left by the emotionally exhausting song from before.

* * *

Michael has never witnessed anyone manipulating and electrifying audience quite the same way that these guys did. There was almost something supernatural in how easily they made the audience laugh, scream, shout or cry.

That being said, they were absolute _idiots._

* * *

Michael watched the singer climb on guitarist’s shoulders and sing from there, guitarist transporting him from one side of the stage to the other with the bassist either running circles around them or doing his best to trip them. 

After the singer finally climbed down, he walked up to the bassist, sticking the mic in his face and letting him sing the chorus. Except that the bassist let out a dunk _yeeeeeeeah _and returned to headbanging, leaving the singer standing there, looking like a disappointed father.

* * *

A familiar beat echoed through the hall, making Star turn around. 

“It’s your song!” she exclaimed happily, almost more excited about it being Michael’s favorite than Michael himself.

The heavy distortion of the guitar shaking the venue, lyrics poured through Michael’s veins like liquid fire. 

He opened his mouth to sing along for the first time that night and he’s never felt _so alive._

* * *

The drums forced his heart to follow the same tempo, singer standing in front of him and his very essence was clinging to the words he screamed along to the song_._

The singer leaned forward, eyes flying over the faces in the crowd as he sang. He found Michael and placed him under his hypnotic stare, both of them screaming the last verse, music stuttering to a halt.

The singer was still there, hanging above the audience, their hands grabbing at him. Michael felt stripped bare under his gaze, strong and unfaltering. At the same time he felt strangely challenged, squaring his jaw and looking right back, refusing to blink even though his eyes were feeling dryer every millisecond.

Everyone seemed to feel a shift in a mood, heads turning, but the singer seemed to snap out of whatever come over him. He straightened up and walked away.

“So,” he said in the mic, “There are hundred other bands that started just like us, a bunch of nobodies playing random shows in front of maybe fifty people.”

The rest of the band was at the drummer, engaged in a heated but quiet conversation.

“But there’s a reason why _we _are the ones filling halls, selling records and _they _are still playing tiny bars on weekends.”

The audience cheered, but stayed relatively quiet, waiting for the singer to get to the point.

“That’s because these guys, they’re not ready to put in their everything, they think that if they look cool enough they will get everything handed to them, they act all tough, but they’re not!” His voice started gaining strength and volume, a rasp creeping into the last words and the noise of the audience gradually gaining volume.

“That’s because they’re _All Looks,_” screamed the singer, the crowd joining in, “_No Hooks!_”

The place erupted in cheers, band breaking into a new song. 

Intellectually, Michael knew that there was no way that the song was a direct insult to him, it was recorded and picked for the setlist way before he even thought of attending the concert. Still, he felt ticked off, feeling like he has to prove himself to the Billy Idol lookalike skulking around the stage.

* * *

_“Just a weekend warrior attitude_

_Wake up – you gotta be dreaming_

_All looks, no hooks_

_Just a punk with dreams of Hollywood”_

* * *

“Fuck it,” Michael muttered.

He tapped Star on the shoulder. “Gonna stage dive,” he shouted in her ear, waiting for the nod of the acknowledgment.

Once he got it, he squirmed next to her, pulling himself on the stage. The nervous security guy was already hurrying towards him. Michael scrambled to his feet, casting a glance towards the rest of the stage.

Everyone’s gaze was fixed on him.

_If I’m gonna do it I might as well do it all the way._

He looked at the stack of speakers in front of him and started climbing. The security man tried to stop him, but Michael was already getting up on the top.

Michael looked down. The stack didn’t seem that tall from the ground, but as he was standing on the top, looking down, he realized that it was _way _taller than it seemed. He needed a moment to find Star who was looking up at him too, both excited and concerned.

He took a deep breath.

_I’m such an idiot._

He jumped.

* * *

It kinda hurt. Actually, it hurt a lot.

People did catch him and everything, but human limbs are not exactly the softest landing pad. Especially not when you jump from one of those deceptively tall stacks of speakers.

He was being carried around and he tried to see what is going on on the stage, but all the bumps made the world swirl around too fast for him to see anything.

Still, he felt weirdly triumphant and when the supporting hands would scratch him or grab him too harshly, he didn’t feel it at all.

* * *

He finally ended on his feet at the end of the song, just a bit more in the back than where he used to be.

The stage was shrouded in black, with only one spotlight resting on the guitarist. He started off with a pleasant chord, letting it ring through the hall. Michael started elbowing through the crowd, trying to find Star.

The guitarist played a simple, but nice melody, and repeated it over and over again, each time quicker than the last until his fingers were a blur on the fretboard. Michael stopped for a moment to properly take in the sheer amount of skill on display.

The flurry of notes ended in a one loud chord, the crowd which was before holding its breath finally letting it go and clapping loudly. Michael moved on and found Star, hugging her from behind.

The guitarist played another melody, the drummer and bassist joining in. Together they formed a surprisingly beautiful and mellow harmony, the guitarist adding more and more of little fills and rapid-fire notes.

He looked almost ethereal, bathing in blinding spotlight, face hidden behind a curtain of hair and sweat gleaming on his naked torso. He broke into an absurdly fast sequence, notes ripping from the strings faster than Michael could comprehend them. And yet, there was still a main string of melody, tying the whole solo into a breathtakingly beautiful whole.

It seemed as if the guitarist was submerged in his own universe, where nothing but his guitar existed and playing came to him like breathing. He didn’t jump around or exaggerate any gestures like he did the rest of the show. He just stood there, lightly swaying at the music, eyes for nothing but his guitar.

He seemed completely at peace, submerged underwater, pulling everyone else with him in the music-induced trance. He looked strangely vulnerable out there, despite his visibly strong body. It seemed as if he was baring his soul to them without using any words, just staccato notes tapped on the neck.

The solo ended in a crescendo of absurdly fast harmonies and then he let the final note ring, abusing the tremolo bar and dragging out the tone.

The curtain of hair moved and he looked up for the first time since he started playing his solo. He blinked into the spotlight and looked at the audience as if he didn’t realize that they were still out there.

Michael clapped for him so hard that his hands hurt. There was a rogue tear trickling out of the corner of his eye summoned by the wistful melodies, but he ignored it.

The spotlight went out and the darkness on the stage was slowly replaced by a soft, warm light. The smoke machine was puffing out clouds of mist, shrouding the stage in a mysterious atmosphere.

The rest of the band took their respective spots and for one moment everyone waited in complete silence for the next song. The singer screamed and everyone threw themselves into a new song, already forgetting the trance of the solo.

* * *

“This song is the last one for tonight,” said the singer, prompting loud protesting from the crowd. He laughed.

“Yeah, I know.” He bent down and picked a beer can off the ground. “Cheers to you Phoenix, because you guys were one of the best crowds we played for.”

The crowd screamed in approval.

The singer chuckled. “You wanna rock?” he shouted, the audience going crazy in response.

“I can’t hear you!”

Everyone screamed even louder, stripping their throats raw.

“You wanna rock!?” screamed the singer and leaned back to relish in the response.

_“Lost Boys!” _he shouted and the band launched into the song.

* * *

Michael was squished between the jumping bodies, he was sweaty and disgusting and out of breath and probably partially deaf, but this was the last song of the night and there was no way he was gonna let _anything _mess with his fun.

People screamed along louder than they ever have before that night. For the chorus the singer pointed the mic to the crowd and they tried even louder, almost overwhelming the noise from the speakers.

“One last time!” screamed the singer, the band stalling before the chorus.

The singer pointed his mic towards the crowd which sang the chorus.

“Come on!” he shouted. “You wanna rock?”

Everyone screamed even louder than before. Michael felt like he was going to scream his vocal chords, his throat out, but again, it was so worth it.

“Let’s fucking go!”

The rest of the band threw themselves back into the song, tearing into their instruments as the whole venue jumped and screamed along.

Tension rose until one last “_Lost Boys!” _echoed through the hall and the band straight up abused their instruments. Guitarist and bassist mashed the necks of their instruments together, producing a loud distorted noise and the singer was beating the cymbals with his fists as the drummer was breaking his drumsticks over every drum he had.

With groaning of the guitars and fading noise of the cymbals the song finally came to the end, the crowd once again screaming their hearts out.

The band put down their instruments, instead taking towels to dry off and tearing setlists off the floor, throwing them to the people. The drummer walked up to the front, showing his ruined drumsticks before tossing them to the crowd and going on to fistbump the people in the front. On the other side of the stage was the guitarist, tossing his picks and shaking hands.

The bassist was right next to Star and Michael, shrugging to reveal empty hands and then coming closer to shake hands.

He took Michael’s hand too, gripping it a bit tighter and longer than normal, flashing him a goofy smile and then he moved on.

Soon the rest of the band moved away from the outstretched hands and gathered at the center of the stage. They placed their arms around each other’s shoulders and bowed, a gesture of gratitude and respect for the crowd after an incredible show.

Then they walked off the stage, leaving the fans to collect themselves and slowly drip out through the gates.

Michael and Star were standing at their spots, looking wistfully at the empty stage for a few moments. Star then turned around, smiling at Michael.

“This was incredible, wasn’t it?” she exclaimed.

He nodded enthusiastically. “It was unbelievable!” he shouted back over the chatter of the crowd. “Shall we go?” he asked, wincing at the scratchiness of his throat.

Star nodded, taking his hand. “Let’s find something to drink!” she said and led him towards the exit.


	2. Wanna Make It Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Michael and Star get drunk, high and take a plunge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as it seems to be becoming a tradition, here's the spotify playlist for this chapter:
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6Nfv7GoPvBHh32ie1D4mc5
> 
> the title comes from song Stare at the Sun by The Cruel Intentions which is included in the playlist.
> 
> Enjoy!

They squeezed themselves through the crowd towards the bar and ordering beers. Michael downed his, the coolness of the alcohol soothing to his overheated body.

“We should go outside,” said Star. “I need some air!”

Michel nodded and with hand in hand they walked towards the exit, only to find it completely crammed with people.

“Ugh,” said Star and looked around. “How about we take those doors?” she pointed to a more discrete pair of doors, with a fire exit sign above them and giant red letters FOR PERSONNEL ONLY plastered all over them.

“Are you sure we won’t get in trouble?” asked Michael dubiously, but Star was already dragging him towards the forbidden exit. He sighed and hoped no one would notice them.

The doors weren’t closed all the way, allowing Star to open them without any problem. They sneaked through, entering an industrial-looking hallway. The chatter of the crowd died down almost completely as the doors closed behind them.

“That’s some impressive soundproofing,” said Michael, trying to cover up his nervousness. Star only laughed at him and together they walked down the hallway.

There were a few twists and turns on the way, a few closed doors, presumably storage places, and at the end there were open doors. The cool of the night was slowly creeping in, the orange of the streetlights shining off the polished floor.

“Look, we’re already there!” exclaimed Star. She hurried towards the exit, leaving Michael to chase after her.

They walked out into a parking lot filled with various smaller delivery vans and a huge bus and truck towering above all. Star’s eyes went wide.

“This must be their tour bus,” she whispered excitedly, grabbing Michael’s arm and pointing to the bus. “They must be somewhere around here!”

Almost as if on cue, the familiar pair of blonde mops swerved right around the corner of the building, shaking with giggles. The bassist and drummer hid behind the wall, only heads peeking out.

There was a loud bang of doors getting slammed open.

“What the fuck did you two do this time?!” yelled a familiar voice, making the other two quickly pull their heads out of sight, their bodies shaking with another giggling fit.

“I swear, if you two put shaving cream in my pillow again-”

The blondes bent over, trying to suppress the sound of their laughter. Michael and Star exchanged amused looks.

The steps were coming closer and closer to their corner, forcing the giggling duo to look around for a new hiding spot. They looked towards the doors where Star and Michael were standing, eyes widening. They ran to them, the bassist grabbing both their shoulders.

“You didn’t see us!” he whispered before letting them go and hiding behind the doors with the drummer.

Star and Michael exchanged confused looks, shrugging at the boys’ antics. Right then the singer appeared, an exasperated look on his face. He noticed Michael and Star, walking towards them.

“You two aren’t supposed to be here,” he said.

“Uh yeah, so we saw-” stammered Michael, trying to think of an excuse, only to be silenced by the singer’s hand.

“Did you see where did Paul and Marko go?” asked the singer. Michael and Star shook their heads.

The singer groaned in frustration. With a corner of his eye Michael saw a gloved thumbs-up appear momentarily from behind the door. He pushed down the need to snort, clenching his muscles.

“Then help me find these two idiots,” said the singer. He turned around, revealing a giant paper stuck on his back that said KICK MY FLAT ASS.

Star made an inhuman sound that resembled a rusty kettle.

“So,” continued the singer, completely oblivious, “You two go check the spaces from the right and I’ll go left. This way they won’t be able to sneak away.”

He sauntered towards the parked vehicles. Michael and Star were still standing on the same spot, a set of constipated expressions plastered over their faces. The singer turned around.

"Come on," he said, waving to them to follow him.

They followed.

* * *

They were "clearing" an area behind the tour bus while the singer was searching the inside. Michael stepped to Star, bent down to her level and accidentally headbutting her in the process.

"What are even their names?" he whispered loudly.

Star giggled. "You don't even know their names?" she whispered back.

"Of course I don't, I barely knew any of their songs before I came here!" he exclaimed in a hushed voice.

"Oh," said Star loudly, "I for-"

"Sshhh!"

"-got." She scratched her head. "The singer is David, the bassist is Paul, the drummer is Marko and the guitarist is Dwayne."

Michael nodded. "Thanks!" he said and smacked a kiss on her cheek, accidentally poking her in the eye with his nose.

There was a clang and David stepped out of the bus.

"They're not here," he said and sauntered towards the truck. "You boy are going to help me get in," he said, beckoning Michael to follow, "And you girl are going to see if they appear anywhere else."

The KICK MY FLAT ASS sign on David's back was still there, secure and visible.

He was standing at the doors of the truck, looking at them expectantly. Michael quickly came to him, helping him one handedly with the rusty locking mechanism. Star was standing a few steps away, sipping her beer and swaying in her skirt.

"Don't you think they couldn't have-"

"No."

Michael look at David, eyebrows raised. "How do you think they managed to get in and lock themselves in?"

David looked Michael straight into his eyes. The shadows cast by the murky light of the streetlights deepened his features and made his eyes seem deeper, more tired and sunken.

"You haven't witnessed what they can do," he said and went back to wrestling the rusty metal.

Michael shrugged and drank some of his beer.

"Ha!" exclaimed David, finally opening the doors with a monstrous metallic screech. The inside of the truck was just boxes upon boxes, upon boxes with one box wide gap in the middle. They stepped up on the edge of the truck.

“Come on,” said David, gesturing at the musty insides. “You go check the insides.”

Michael gave him a look. He was too drunk to argue. He gulped down the rest of his beer, shoved the cup in David’s hands and stepped inside.

Of course, it was empty. The dust and stuffy air made Michael’s nose itch. He turned back.

“It’s empty,” he announced to David.

“Okay then,” he replied, giving Michael back his cup. “Let’s check the next one.”

He turned around, once again displaying the very legible letters that spelled out KICK MY FLAT ASS.

Michael couldn’t see his ass since he was wearing a coat, but he was sure that it was truly very flat. He looked at the expanse of the coat that was hiding the lack of the bump that was David’s behind.

_Kinda a prick, this one, huh?_

Michael kicked David’s flat ass right off the truck.

* * *

Star wasn’t paying much attention to what was going around the truck, being much more interested in watching the debacle that was unfolding there. She swayed her hips a bit, feeling her skirt flow with the movement. It felt nice. She did it again.

This Michael was a nice boy. Kinda dorky and awkward, but in a charming way. He also had nice pecs and ass, which was always a bonus.

She kept swaying and drank some more of her beer.

David was just making Michael check the inside of the truck. Michael didn’t look too thrilled about it.

Coming down from her concert high, she realized that David was kind of annoying and bossy. She was happy that Paul and Marko were pranking him.

Speaking of. A familiar giggle emerged from behind the tour bus. She turned her head a bit more when she swayed, noticing Paul and Marko’s heads looking at them. Paul gave her thumbs-up and Marko made the shushing gesture. She smiled at them and turned back to the truck.

Michael was just telling David that the truck was empty. There was dust in his hair and on sides of his clothes which rubbed at the boxes inside. David shook his head in disappointment and gave an order.

He turned around, getting ready to hop off the truck. Behind him was Michael, making a strange face, eyes fixed on lower part of David’s torso.

Michael kicked David’s ass, sending him flying off the edge of the truck right on his otherwise so annoyingly self-satisfied face.

She started laughing, open and loud, but still getting drowned in the dual screeches of delight from the tour bus.

Paul and Marko collapsed onto each other, laughing too hard to be able to support their own weight.

David slowly raised his head, first seeing Star, head thrown back, howling with laughter, beer splashing in her cup from the shaking of her body. Then he turned his head, seeing Paul and Marko collapsed on the floor, banging hands at concrete in hysterics.

“You!” he yelled furiously at them.

A pair of feet landed next to him and an unsure hand patted at his back, trying to get hold of something. Finally it found what it wanted, taking it with a loud ripping noise. Then it threw the thing on David’s head. He angrily grabbed it.

He was holding a big piece of paper.

“KICK MY FLAT ASS,” it told him. The second K and the T were only partially there, being torn off his back.

There was a _thump _next to him and some more laughter. He turned his head.

“You!” he yelled furiously at Michael who was laughing next on him on the floor like he didn’t just literally kick his ass.

David rolled over, ready to strangle Michael to death, but was stopped by a booted foot.

“Hey,” said Dwayne, a twitching smile on his face, “It wouldn’t be good for the band image if you killed a fan in the parking lot.

The rest of the gathered around were slowly recovering from their laughing fits. Paul and Marko were picking each other up, somehow managing to get back on their feet despite the fact that they almost knocked each other over in the process.

Dwayne offered a helping hand to David who was slowly picking himself off the ground. He angrily declined. Dwayne turned to help Michael instead.

Paul and Marko went straight to Michael, grabbing both his hands and shaking them.

“Thank you, random fan,” started Paul, “You have no idea how much I wanted to see David’s flat ass get kicked,” continued Marko, both of them frantically shaking Michael’s hands and breaking out in another fit of giggles.

Star joined the group, sipping her beer quietly and observing the situation. David was sulking at the edge of the group.

“What are your names again?” asked Marko.

“I’m Michael,” said Michael and gestured to Star, “and this is Star.”

“Nice to meet you,” politely replied Dwayne and gave each of them a friendly nod.

“We gotta celebrate this with a round of drinks!” exclaimed Paul and together with Marko they grabbed Michael and Star, dragging them to the entrance to backstage. Dwayne shot David an amused look and followed.

David stood there for a beat, sulking, and then he finally followed the rest.

* * *

“Anyway, he was whiny all night, so we thought ‘let’s give him a reason to whine,’ right?”

They moved to a bunch of couches that were in the backstage area while the band’s crew was taking care of their equipment. Paul and Marko were animatedly telling a story to Star and Michael while Dwayne absent-mindedly strummed an acoustic guitar and David was angrily doing lines.

“So we stole everyone’s shaving cream and a pillow cover and made a pillow!”

Paul cackled. “His bed and head were both covered in shaving cream and he looked like world’s ugliest snowman!” Everyone except David laughed.

“Can you two _please _stop with the stories?!” exploded David. The lower part of his face was all white from failed lines.

Michael tried not to snort at the sight.

“Is this how you guys are like every day on tour?” asked Star.

“Nope,” said Paul.

“We just sleep through the day,” explained Dwayne. “It’s the nights that we wake up and start partying.”

“Yeah,” said Marko with a grin, “Sleep all day, party all night, you know the drill.”

“Living the dream, huh?” remarked Michael, making Dwayne laugh.

“Marko!” barked David. “Can you get us the bottle?”

Marko raised his eyebrow. “_The _bottle?”

“Yeah, _the _bottle.”

Marko nodded and jumped out of his seat. “I’ll be right back!” he exclaimed and left the room.

“Want some?” asked Paul, producing a mangled-looking joint.

“Uhhh...” Michael hesitated. _Who knows what kind of shit do these guys have? Is it even safe?_

“Why not?” he said, taking the offered blunt. He took a drag and pushed down the urge to cough. If that was just weed, it must have been a very special kind because it felt absolutely _nasty. _He offered the joint to Star, who also took a drag, passing it on.

_She doesn’t look phased at all._

She smiled at him. Michael’s world started to feel foggy.

_What is this girl made of???_

“Want some rice?” suddenly asked David. He has wiped the dust off his face and was now holding a takeout carton. A wave of giggles rippled through the room, but missing Star and Michael.

_Is this some kind of prank? Or payback?_

Michael shook his head, making the world spin even harder. “No thanks,” he said, “Not really hungry.”

“Come on,” said David rattling the carton. “You may not feel it now, but you must be really hungry after all the partying.”

Michael sighed and took carton. There didn’t seem to be anything weird about it, just regular rice and a plastic fork. He picked it up and started eating. David _was _right, Michael didn’t notice it before but now that he’s started eating there seemed to be a giant hole in his stomach.

“How are those maggots?” suddenly asked David.

Dwayne and Paul giggled.

“Maggots, Michael.”

Michael shot him a confused look.

“You’re eating maggots, Michael, how do they taste?” asked David, prompting Paul and Dwayne to laugh harder.

Michael looked down to his carton and truly enough, there were tiny white maggots squirming inside. He spit out the contents of his mouth in disgust, dropping the maggot filled box. Paul’s Dwayne’s and David’s laughter was ringing in his ears.

He looked down at the carton again, only to see that there was no maggots, just plain rice.

“What kinda weed do you guys have?!” asked Star incredulously, staring at the rice spilled on the floor.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I swear I won’t do it again,“ said David, trying to calm Michael down. He grabbed another takeout box that was resting on the table. He opened it and offered it to Michael.

“Want some noodles instead?” he asked.

Michael peeked into the carton. There were worms curling around each other in their slimy glory. He sighed.

“They’re worms,” he said quietly, trying not to look at the contents of the carton.

“What do you mean?” asked David, grabbing a pair of chopsticks. “They’re just noodles, Michael.”

He reached into the box and pulled out some perfectly normal noodles and ate them clumsily. Paul and Dwayne laughed.

“Come on, that’s enough,” said Star sternly.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re done, for real this time,” said David grumpily.

The doors opened and Marko entered, carrying a bejeweled bottle, filled with red wine. “The bottle’s here,” he announced unnecessarily. He walked to David and handed him the wine.

“So,” said David, uncapping the bottle, “Do you two wanna live the dream? Forever?”

“What kind of question is that?” asked Star, taking the bottle. “Of course,” she said and took a swig.

The band started whooping and clapping. Even David’s otherwise so cold face seemed to warm up as he smiled at Star.

“Bravo!” he shouted and clapped together with the rest.

Once the boys had calmed down, he turned his attention to Michael.

“What about you?” he asked. “Do you wanna live the dream forever too?”

His pale eyes felt like they were burning holes into Michael’s soul. David took the wine bottle from Star’s hands and was now holding it to Michael. The rest of the band started quietly chanting his name.

“Michael, Michael, Michael, Michael...”

Everyone’s eyes were on Michael. Somewhere, in a dark corner of his brain, there was a tiny voice that was telling him this was a very big decision that he must consider deeply.

“Michael, Michael, Michael...”

The rest of his weed and alcohol-addled mind perked up at David’s offer.

_More booze!_

“Sure,” he said, grabbed the bottle and took a giant swig.

The room erupted in cheers and clapping, even Star joining in.

Paul shot up from his seat to clap them both on their backs.

“You’re like us now!” he exclaimed happily and pulled them both into a clumsy hug.

* * *

Eventually as the venue closed for the night they moved to the tour bus, Michael and Star passing the bottle between themselves, getting drunker and drunker.

“Can you play any instruments?” asked Dwayne. They both shook their heads.

“I can sing, though!” added Star. She was sitting on the couch between Michael and David.

“Oh, that’s always nice,” said David.

Dwayne put an acoustic guitar in Michael’s lap.

“Let me show you,” he said, placing Michael’s hands into position.

“Look,” exclaimed Marko, who was wrestling Paul on the floor. “Dwayne’s gonna teach Michael how to play!”

Paul scoffed. “Fucking guitars.”

Dwayne showed Michael how to play a chord. Michael strummed, eliciting a clear sound from the guitar.

“Bravo!” shouted David. “Now you’re already as good at playing guitar as Paul is!”

Paul chucked one of his scarves at him. “Fuck you!” he exclaimed. “You’re not allowed to make fun out of me until you learn how to play bass!”

Dwayne showed Michael another chord. After a few tries, Michael also strummed that one properly.

“Wow, you’re already a better guitarist than Paul is,” remarked David and ducked under scarf projectile aimed at his head.

“If you manage to do transitions you’ll be better than Paul will ever be,” added Marko with a shit-eating grin. He immediately got wrestled down by Paul.

“I trusted you!” shouted the bassist, mercilessly tickling Marko. “How dare you betray me like this!”

* * *

“Huh,” said Michael. He tried switching between the two chords he’s just learned. It was sort of tedious and took a lot of time. Being drunk didn’t seem to help his motor skills either.

“Hey, don’t worry, transitions take some time,” said Dwayne reassuringly. He was still shirtless, just wearing a denim vest that did nothing to hide the endless expanse of skin. His body seemed strangely cold at first, but the more time they spent sitting together, the more natural it felt.

Michael kept trying to switch between the chords.

It was nice, being able to make something nice, even if it was just two simple chords. He’s never really been one for creative pursuits, but this made him change his mind. Playing football for the high school team and going to the gym just didn’t bring the same sort of satisfaction that a properly played chord did. He swore to himself that the moment he had enough money he would buy himself a guitar.

“The rhythm section is the _backbone _of every band!” yelled Paul who was still trying to tickle Marko to death. “Why would you sell me out like this?”

“Okay!” screamed Marko. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again!”

Paul finally backed off, leaving a breathless Marko on the floor. Dwayne shook his head affectionately. “Idiots,” he muttered.

“Are they always like this?” asked Star.

“Yeah,” answered David. “Paul has and inferiority complex because he can’t play guitar to save his life.”

“You’re the one with inferiority complex!” shouted Paul.

“Yeah, you talk a lot of shit for someone who can’t hold a rhythm on their own,” said Marko. Him and Paul high-fived.

David’s face turned sour. “Fuck you two,” he said.

Star laughed.

* * *

Paul was lighting up another joint, making its strange smoky scent spread all over the bus.

Dwayne groaned.

“Didn’t we agree not to smoke that shit on the bus?” he asked, annoyed.

Paul looked up, smoke trailing out of his mouth.

“Whoops,” he said, puffing out a whole cloud with the word. “I forgot,” he added sheepishly.

“Great, now the whole bus will be stinking of your burning spicy old socks,” said David, getting up from the couch. “Let’s go out and let the bus air a little.”

He helped Star get up and led the way off the bus. Dwayne took the guitar from Michael’s hands and put it into its case while the rest of them got up to leave.

* * *

They ended up climbing the fire stairs to the top of the venue and sitting on the roof. They chatted quietly, talking about anything and nothing, but mostly concentrating on catching some night breeze. Well, at least most of them were.

Paul still had his joint, now shared between him and Marko. He offered it to Michael too. He remembered the haze and fog of the first joint he took from Paul and declined politely. Paul offered it also to Star, but she declined too. She was sitting in David’s lap and Michael felt a pang of jealousy.

She was with him at first and he thought they were doing fine, but now she has ditched him for the asshole singer.

Speaking of.

David was staring right at Michael, which was weird considering he had a perfectly nice and pretty girl right in his lap.

_Is this some sort of power thing? Is he gonna end up making out with her while staring at me the whole time?_

It was really weird and getting a bit uncomfortable.

“Can you _please _stop staring at me?” exploded Michael.

The chatter died down, everyone looking between the two of them. Star looked uncomfortable too, like she wanted to leave David’s lap but didn’t want to call attention to herself by doing so. In the middle of it all was David, who was still looking straight at Michael, the smirk on his face growing dark.

Star slunk off David’s lap and he got up, walking up to Michael, who was also standing now.

“Am I making you nervous?” asked David, a smug look resting on his face.

Michael rolled his eyes.

“No, it’s just fucking weird,” he answered.

David took a step forward, getting into Michael’s face.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” he asked, strangely cold breath blowing into Michael’s nose.

“Fuck off!” shouted Michael, pushing David away.

They started brawling, pulling at each other’s clothes and trading blows, but Star ran up to them and reached between them. They both froze, neither wanting to hit her.

“Stop it, you two!” she shouted. “Stop trying to piss each other off!”

Both of them slowly let go of each other and took a step away.

The rest of the band was standing there too, watching. David slowly walked to the edge.

“So you two kids think you’ve got it in you?” he asked. “You two wanna party like rockstars, but do you have to balls to be like us?”

Michael squinted at him.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked. He felt Star cautiously press to his side.

David hopped on the edge of the roof. He walked on it, balancing carefully and walked up to Michael and Star.

“Come on,” he said, “Hop on.”

Michael and Star eyed him dubiously. David rolled his eyes.

“Okay then,” he sighed. “Boys!”

The rest of the band walked to the edge and stepped on it too. Marko and Paul immediately started pretending to push each other off.

“Will you come now?” asked David.

Michael sighed. “If you insist,” he muttered and slowly stepped on the edge too. It was thin and with all the alcohol in his blood he was dangerously close to falling.

David offered Star a hand, helping her up too.

“And what now?” asked Michael. David was standing between him and Star and he didn’t like it. Now it didn’t have anything to do with possessiveness, just simple concern for the girl because the man between them was seriously unhinged.

“Shit!” yelled Paul and Michael could see him and Marko fall down.

“What the fuck?!” screamed Star, staring in horror at the empty place where Marko and Paul stood just a second ago.

Dwayne shrugged and stepped off the building, falling into darkness too.

“No!” screamed Star, stretching her neck to see where did he land. Her skirt was flowing beautifully in the night breeze. She leaned at bit more towards the edge…

And fallen off too.

“Star!” screamed Michael in disbelief. He grabbed David roughly and shook him. “What the fuck are you playing at?!” he demanded, blinking through tears.

David just offered him his patented smirk.

“Why?” screamed Michael, pulling David closer, only to feel the weight of the other man tip off his balance.

_Oh no, not me too!_

They both fell off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, you are encouraged to tell me your opinion in the comments or to drop by my askbox on my tumblr blog @isvampirismgay
> 
> thank you for reading!


	3. (Flesh & Blood) Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which hangovers are taken care of and destinations are reached

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all who so patiently waited for this chapter! I've had so many things happening, especially last week that I just couldn't find the time and energy to write and then I got hit by a cold which sapped the last trace of functionality out of me!
> 
> But I'm good now and I come bearing gifts! Hopefully I'll be able to post on a more regular schedule from now on since the most of the workshops are over for this month or so.
> 
> As always, the chapter title is from the Poison song of the same name which can be found also on the Spotify playlist I created for the chapter:
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1w7qJsb9tH0sbdUw3Ca2sX
> 
> Enjoy the chapter and music!

Michael was woken up by the merciless pounding of pain against the back of his head. He opened his eyes, only to be blinded by the searing sunlight peering through the curtains. He quickly shut his eyes again, groaning at the pain caused by the overwhelming sensation.

The world seemed to still be floating and Michael has realized that he was lying on the bed fully clothed, shoes still firmly on his feet.

The persistent sunlight has turned the usually comforting darkness of closed eyes into a bright red inferno. Michael dug through the pockets of his jacket and produced a pair of sunglasses. Eyes still closed, he fumbled them open and put them on, accidentally poking himself in the face a few times before succeeding. He readjusted his body into a more comfortable position and fell asleep again.

* * *

“Michael. Michael!”

A hand was shaking him.

“Wake up, Michael!”

He made a noise and opened his eyes.

Star was standing at his side, leaning over him with a concerned look on her face.

_Wait, what is Star doing in my room?_

Michael snapped upright, almost knocking Star over. He whipped his head around, forcing his eyes wide open, trying to take in as much as he could.

The narrow walls, small curtained windows, a mini kitchen, tiny desk and a small couch confirmed that they were on the tour bus.  
  
The crashing realization that he must have slept through whole day and that his mom must have no idea where he’s at and _oh no she must be organising search parties already_ hit him and he groaned, falling back on his improvised bed.

* * *

“Michael,” said Star, getting impatient. “Come on.”

Michael pulled himself back into an upright position with a pained groan. He wasn’t really hurting anymore since he must had slept off the hangover but having to deal with the situation on hand _was_ painful, just not in a physical way.

“Yeah, I know,” he mumbled, voice scratchy and low from sleep.

“And what do you think we should do about all this?” asked Star.

Michael slowly took off his sunglasses off and planted his face in his hands.

“Ugh,” he said. “I guess we’ll call our folks and take the first bus to Phoenix?” he suggested, words coming muffled through his hands.

“You want to tell your parents,” said Star incredulously, “How you fell off a roof and instead of dying like a normal person you just shot up into the sky?”

“I did _what?_”

* * *

“I remember the skirt catching and tearing on the emergency staircase on the side of the building. After I wo-”

“Please don’t tell me,” blurted out Michael. “I am too attached to my sanity to lose it like that.”

He took a deep breath.

“Don’t forget,” he said, “We were probably both drunk _and _high. It could have been just that.”

“Then how do you explain this?” asked Star, holding up a side of her skirt, displaying a hole between the layers.

“Oh _fuck._”

“Yeah,” nodded Star. She swung the skirt back to the side, concealing the missing fabric.

Michael closed his eyes momentarily, trying to collect himself.

“It must be because of the drugs,” he finally said.

“Are you sure?” asked Star. “Whatever is the reason,” she said after a beat, “We should get to the bottom of it.”

* * *

“You stand guard and I’ll go through the cabinets, alright?”

Michael and Star got up from their seats. Star took the position right next to the curtain through that let to the sleeping section of the bus. There was a complete quiet in there.

It was strange, one would expect a group as rowdy as the band to be noisy even when sleeping but there was no snoring or shuffling around.

Michael dropped to the flood to check the little storage space under the couch.

“Still sleeping?” he asked quietly.

Star nodded. “Like babies.”

Michael carefully opened the little cabinet doors, revealing a collection of worn shoes. The smell of sweaty feet, alcohol and things he did not want to think about overwhelmed his senses and he quickly shut the cabinet.

The loud clang echoed as loud as a gunshot. Star shushed him sharply.

“What the fuck?” she whispered. Then the smell must have reached her because she made a face and pinched her nose shut.

Michael shrugged at her and fanned the air a bit to get rid of the disgusting odor. It did not work.

He coughed quietly and got up, moving to the overhead cabinets. He carefully opened one of them, revealing a collection of various liquor bottles. He pulled out a Jaegermeister.

“Hey, Star,” he whispered loudly. “Maybe we should both take a shot of this.”

“We’re not getting wasted _now,_” she whispered back, scandalized.

Michael rolled his eyes.

“It’s medical,” he explained. “It’s supposed to be good for your… tubes and stuff.”

Star raised one dubious eyebrow.

“It’s even made from herbs, come on!”

“I think I’ll pass.”

Michael gave her one frustrated look before shrugging and uncapping the bottle. He put it to his mouth, taking a hearty swig.

“Already drinking, eh?”

Michael choked on his medicinal Jaegermeister.

* * *

The curtain was drawn to reveal a neat-looking middle-aged man soundlessly materializing right next to Star.

“Oh dear,” he said mildly, watching Michael cough and choke. “A word of advice: don’t take what you can’t handle, boy.”

“It’s not-” croaked Michael before another coughing fit.

“I suppose the boys gave you two a bit too much last night, didn’t they?” asked the man.

Star blushed. Michael was still struggling to regain his breath.

“I know, I know, then you all passed out without anyone remembering to kick you off the bus before getting back on the road.” The man sighed. “Don’t worry, it’s happened so many times I should already be used to it,” he reassured them.

Michael was finally able to breathe again. He snuck a little sip of Jaegermeister and put the bottle back to its place in the cabinet.

“Is there any chance you could drop us off at some place before the next town?” asked Michael.

The man shook his head. “No, we’re almost there and we’re pressed for time too.”

“Where exactly is _there,_ though?” asked Star.

“San Diego.”

“Oh,” said Michael. “I guess we’ll phone our folks from there. There should be buses back to Phoenix, right?”

“Yes, it shouldn’t be a problem. I suppose you could use one of the phones from the backstage area if you wanted,” offered the man.

Michael nodded. “That would be ideal, thank you,” he said.

“Then we’re set,” said the man and turned to go back through the curtain.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, turning back to Star and Michael. “I’m so rude I haven’t even introduced myself!” He offered his hand to Star.

“Name’s Max, I’m the Boys’ manager,” he said.

Star and Michael shook his hand, mumbling their names and nicetomeetyous and then the man finally disappeared back through the curtain.

Star and Michael looked at each other and shrugged. After a moment of silence there was loud knocking from behind the curtain.

“Come on boys, wake up!” shouted Max.

There was a series of loud bangs and clangs of forcibly drawn curtains.

“You have a radio interview before the gig, we’re almost there, come on!”

More noise came from the curtained section, the band clumsily emerging from their beds.

“We’re having a radio interview?” slurred a sleepy voice.

“Yes, but you _still _need to change your clothes, Paul, you’re reeking,” answered Max.

“Yeah dude, I couldn’t sleep because of you,” said Dwayne.

“Fuck off, guitarist.”

Someone snorted.

“I hope you boys won’t forget about your guests,” said Max loudly.

“What guests?” asked Paul

“Oh fuck, we forgot about Star and Mike!”

The boys burst through the curtain, spearheaded by Paul and Marko who also fell right on their faces.

Michael and Star snorted.

Dwayne carefully poked his head through the entrance.

Star gave him a little wave.

“Hi,” he said. He smiled awkwardly. “Sorry?”

David coolly steamrolled over Marko and Paul. His hair was completely flat on one side of the head and standing up straight on the other. It wasn’t a flattering look.

“We’re sorry we forgot about you two,” said Paul, clumsily trying to get back on his feet.

“To be fair,” added Marko, voice muffled by the carpet, “It’s not like we were in a state allowing us to do any sort of thinking.”

“I’s cool,” said Michael. “We’ll just call our folks and take the first bus back to Phoenix.”

David cleared his throat. “Of course until your bus leaves you’re more than welcome to stay on ours.”

He gestured at the expanse of the bus, hitting his finger hard against one of the cabinets in the cramped space.

“Fuck,” he said in a small voice, cradling the hurt hand.

Dwayne snorted quietly, hiding the lower part of his face with the curtain.

“Anyway,” said David indignantly, “We have to get ready for our interview so excuse us.”

He turned on his heel and sauntered back through the curtain. Or, better said, _tried to saunter _because due to lack of space he had to shuffle sideways to pass Paul and Marko.

“I’ll be right back,” said Marko and followed David through the curtain. Dwayne’s head has already disappeared in the back.

Paul looked around.

“You know what?” he said, walking up to Star and Michael. “I think I’ll rather wait here and keep you two company.”

He plopped down on the sofa next to Star.

“Come on,” he said, gesturing at the space next to him, “Sit down, we’re all cool here”

Michael and Star hesitantly joined him. The smell of old sweat and weed reeked off him.

“Sorry about being so stinky,” he said. “I know it’s annoying but sometimes I just wanna grind on David’s nerves a bit more, you know?”

Michael laughed.

“I do the same!” he exclaimed. “Sometimes my little brother complains that I’m too smelly after a workout and then I like to rub it into his face for the emphasis, you know.”

They both laughed together.

Star looked between them.

“You guys are both disgusting,” she said.

Paul batted off her comment.

“Gotta have some fun once in a while.”

“Judging from the last night it’s not just once in a while,” said Michael dryly.

Paul shrugged. “Look man, we’re rockstars now, gotta live the lifestyle too!”

His expression sobered slightly.

“I hope yesterday wasn’t too much for you two? Sometimes we forget that not everyone is used to all we have and then someone has a bad trip.”

Star shrugged. “I mean there were a few weird moments-”

“With David,” jumped it Michael.

“But nothing too bad,” concluded Star.

“Okay then!” smiled Paul. “That’s good to hear, it’s only really fun if everyone is having fun!”

“Paul!” shouted David from the other side of the bus. “Come change your musty clothes!”

Paul shrugged and got up.

“Looks like I gotta go,” he said. “See ya!”

And with a tiny wave he was gone through the curtain.

Michael waited for a moment, looking after him before turning back to Star.

“Do you think it was all just a bad trip?” he asked.

Star looked down at her skirt.

“Still dunno how to explain this,” she said, smoothing over the fabric, “Or how our trips had exactly the same content.”

Michael shrugged.

“Maybe David fucked with us like he did when I tried to eat food? And I guess you tore the skirt in between, it can’t be too hard to do that.”

Star nodded.

“Maybe I panicked a bit,” she admitted, cheeks darkening with embarrassment.

“Hey it’s cool,” said Michael. “It’s not like things weren’t freaky before that happened.”

Star giggled.

“Yeah like when David convinced you you were eating maggots,” she said.

“Let’s not talk about that,” he said, blushing furiously, making Star laugh out loud.

The bus slowed down and made a sharp turn. Max walked through the curtain.

“We’re here, let’s get ready!” he announced loudly.

Michael and Star got up and looked over the seats for any potential lost objects. Star picked her purse and Michael patted down his pockets ensuring the contents were still there.

“Do you two have enough money for the phone and ride home?” asked Max.

Michael blushed and took out his wallet. Star went through the contents of her purse.

Both together managed to scrape together a bit over eight dollars.

“Not really,” admitted Michael.

Max dug into one of his pockets, producing a fancy-looking leather wallet. He took out a few bills and gave them to Star and Michael.

“This should be enough,” he said as both of them thanked him profusely.

The bus finally finished parking.

“Now let’s go!”

Max moved to the side, letting Michael and Star walk through the other curtain to a driver’s booth and the bus exit. They mumbled their goodbyes and left the bus.

* * *

It took them a few tries and asking a few people for directions, but after a while they finally found the San Diego bus station. It was completely empty except for one employee doing the crossword puzzle in a tiny office overseeing the whole station.

They walked up to him, knocking on the window. He put the crossword down, visibly annoyed, and rolled up the window.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Hello, when’s the next bus to Phoenix?” asked Michael after collecting himself.

The employee looked through some papers on his desk.

“Tomorrow, quarter past six a.m. Good night.”

With that the employee slammed his window shut and returned back to his crossword.

“Well,” said Michael, “Shit.”

He looked at Star.

“What now?”

She shrugged. “I guess we can go back to the tour bus,” she answered. “After all, David _did _say that we can stay there until our bus leaves.”

“Okay then, back to the venue.”

* * *

“Look Star, here’s a payphone. Wanna call your folks?”

They were standing in the venue’s parking lot where a phone was stuck on the wall next to the entrance to backstage.

Star looked at Michael. “Don’t you want to call your parents first?” she asked.

Michael blushed.

“To be honest, I’m a bit scared of how my mom might react,” he admitted. “So _please_,” he gestured to the phone, “Ladies first.”

Star shook her head.

“I’m not gonna call my folks,” she said quietly. Her gaze stayed fixed on her shoes.

“Why not?”

Michael placed a hand on Star’s shoulder, trying to look at her face.

“Is everything okay?”

Star lifted her head, looking Michael in his eyes.

“I’m a runaway,” she said, “And there’s no way I’m calling my folks about anything ever again.”

“Oh,” said Michael dumbly. “But you’re going back to Phoenix with me, right?”

“Nope.”

“Wanna tell me how it all happened?”

* * *

_ Star felt like fish out of water. The concert was great, yeah, but now it ended and there was a whole mass of people blocking the exit. Besides, she didn’t want the night to end just yet which meant she was standing in a less crowded section without really knowing what to do with herself. _

“_What a great show, right?”_

_ A tall girl materialized next to her, seemingly blind to Star’s mental distress. _

“_Yeah, it was amazing!”_

_ The girl was probably one of the prettiest Star’s ever seen. Dark eyes lined with even darker makeup, lips bright red and shiny star-shaped earrings glittering in her bleach blonde hair, she was everything Star wished she could be. _

_ Or could have? _

“_Name’s Cindy,” said the girl, offering a hand. It was clad in a red fingerless glove. She took it._

“_I’m Star,” she said._

_ It was strange, saying that name out loud for the first time. She had another name, given to her by her parents, printed on her ID, listed in her church’s attendance list. Everybody was using it freely without ever asking _ her _ for an opinion on it. She hated that name. _

_ So she picked a new one and looking at Cindy’s earrings glimmering at her it felt like fate was giving her a sign. _

“_You look like far too much of a good girl to be hanging out here,” said Cindy. “Especially with the likes of me.”_

_ She was right. Star was dressed in the most casual pair of jeans she owned which was still very conservative and prudish in comparison to what everyone was wearing. Her shirt had the top button left open, but it barely made a difference – she still stood out in the crowd like a sore thumb. _

_ Star laughed awkwardly. _

“_I still like it here,” she said. “And you.”_

_ Cindy put her arm around her, pulling her closer. _

“_Don’t worry,” she said, “I swear we’re gonna have so much fun.”_

* * *

“Not really.”

* * *

_Star thought she had erased all traces of her nightly adventure, but the next morning had her parents waiting for her in the kitchen, faces expressionless in a way that only ever meant the worst. _

_ She forced a smile on her face. _

“_Good morning,” she said._

“_Sit down,” said her mother._

_ Then they started speaking Star tried to listen. Her mother said her other name to get her attention, but it only filled her ears with static. It spread to her whole head. _

_ She tried to speak but static was in her mouth, her lungs, her throat. _

_ There was static in her knees, static in her clasped hands, static still in her mouth as she knelt and prayed for her wicked soul. _

_ There was static in her arms when she has hugged her mother and father, static in her lips as she kissed their cheeks when she left for school. _

_ And finally the static cleared as she walked straight through the school building, exiting on the other side and walking straight to that nice jewelry shop where you could sell all sorts of trinkets. _

_ Her eyes and head were clear as she sold her pretty little crucifix necklace, her elegant earrings, all pure gold. Her throat was cleared when she went to the bank and asked for all the money on her account, even though it wasn’t much. _

_ Her legs were free and flexible and capable when they carried her to the bar where Cindy said she was working and waited outside for her. _

_ Her heart was so strong and fast when it was beating in excitement when Cindy finally appeared, face brightening with happiness upon seeing her new friend. _

* * *

The doors to backstage swung open, Paul and Marko stumbling through with a pair of pretty girls. David and Dwayne followed, accompanied with more girls.

“Oh, you’re here!” exclaimed Marko.

“Come party with us!” shouted Paul and Marko took Michael’s sleeve, dragging him with them. Star stood there frozen for a moment and then she joined the merry caravan.

* * *

They somehow crammed into the back room of the bus, girls sitting in the boys’ laps, everyone laughing and flirting.

“Hey, Michael, Star!” called David. “Are you feeling hungry?”

Surprised, Michael remembered that he must have gone at least 24 hours without any food. He was starving.

“This better not end up the way it did last night,” warned Michael.

Marko snorted.

“Oh, I assure you, it won’t be like that at all,” chuckled David. The girl in his lap caressed his cheek and bit his ear seductively.

“Can we finally fucking eat?” asked Dwayne. He was shirtless like last night and his girl made the best of it, hands resting on his naked chest.

“Sure,” shrugged David, “Dig in.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” asked Michael.

David smiled.

The confused atmosphere was penetrated by a shrill scream.

Paul’s girl was shrieking, making everyone look at her, the sight eliciting screams of terror from the other girls.

He was tearing at her neck, teeth and face transformed into a more beastly, monstrous version. The wound was so big that the blood was gushing everywhere and the girl stopped screaming, falling limp.

Other girls stopped screaming almost immediately after, the rest of the band also growing sharp fangs and digging into their necks.

“Oh my god!”

Star and Michael were glued to their places, staring at the carnage wide-eyed.

It was horrible and they should probably be afraid, but their gazes were drawn to the mangled necks and the blood staining the skin and clothes.

It made them so unbelievably _hungry._

They still couldn’t be moved from the spot, barely able to even blink as they looked on.

Star felt like she should be sick, but the strange convulsing feeling wasn’t from _disgust_ but from _want._

The worst of the carnage was done, most of the blood was drained and the boys let the limp bodies fall down to the floor.

“Now you know what we are,” said David. “What _you two _are.”

He wiped some blood off his face, mostly smearing it all over.

“You’ll never grow old and you’ll never die.” He gestured at the dead girls on the floor. “But you must feed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was all, I know it's a bit shorter than the previous two, I actually had more material prepped for it but it ended up getting cut for plot reasons. thanks for reading, don't forget to leave kudos and comments and as always you can always bug me about anything on my tumblr @isvampirismgay


	4. Play With Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Star and Michael start sorting out their rather fucked up situaton, get the munchies and a wardrobe update.
> 
> Also fat-bottomed Michael makes the world go round.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from a Twisted Sister song Burn in Hell, featured also on the playlist for the chapter:
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/77b78sMSpUONwpB2RVaF1i
> 
> Enjoy!

A drop of spit fell out of Star’s wide open mouth and the spell broke.

Both her and Michael scramble out through the curtain, bursting out the bus doors. The ran away, frantic and clumsy and without direction.

“Oof!”

They crashed straight into Max, knocking him over, everyone falling down on the floor.

“Oh shit!” exclaimed Michael. He quickly rolled off the older man and scrambled to his feet, Star also pulling herself up. Her already damaged skirt was now visibly torn, making her look even more harried than she already was.

“We’re so sorry,” said Michael, offering Max a hand and helping him up.

“No worries,” said Max, dusting off his suit. He gave them a long look.

“I see you two must have already seen the boys having dinner, eh?”

Michael slightly stumbled back in shock.

“You know about that?” he asked.

Max nodded. “Of course I do,” he answered, “I’m their manager after all.”

He placed his hand on Michael shoulder.

“Come on,” he said, gesturing Star to follow, “Let’s go calm down over a cuppa coffee.”

* * *

They were sitting in a small room backstage, nursing their coffee. The bustle and the noise of a show getting prepared was muted by closed doors, dying down to a calming murmur.

“I know this must be very difficult for both of you,” started Max, “But you must not let yourselves get carried away.”

“Carried away?!” exploded Michael. “_Carried away? _We just saw the boys fucking _eat_ a bunch of groupies!”

“Calm down,” said Max making a placating gesture with his hand. “Things do look very horrible at first glance, but I swear they’re not.”

“Just how exactly can a brutal murder be not so horrible?” said Michael sarcastically.

“They need human blood to survive,” said Max. “Animal or stored blood from donations doesn’t cut it.”

“Are they real...” asked Star quietly, afraid to finish her question.

“Yes, they’re vampires,” nodded Max.

“And since you drank the blood last night you’re like them too.”

There was a beat of silence after that, both Star and Michael too busy wrangling with the confirmation of their fears to say anything.

Michael was staring into his cup of coffee. He never understood why everyone drank that disgusting thing but right now its warmth and strong smell were like little comforting anchors of normality.

“Come on, wipe these sour faces off, don’t you two want to live like rockstars?”

Max was leaning over the table, a strange smile on his face.

_He’s gonna make me an offer I can’t refuse,_ thought Michael.

“How about you two join us? We can make room for two more on the tour bus,” said Max.

“There’s no way I can refuse that,” said Star.

Max laughed. “I thought so, yeah.” He turned towards Michael.

“How about you?”

Both Max and Star were looking at him expectantly.

Michael knew that realistically speaking this was a very bad idea. His parents were going through divorce and his mother needed all the help she could get. His little brother might not outright show having any issues but it was hard on him too. His family needed him.

Legally he was already an adult and he could technically do whatever he wanted without getting his parents into trouble. There was nothing stopping him from traveling to Los Angeles and becoming a gigolo. He could do anything.

But he can’t just leave his family like that.

“Well, boy?”

_Fuck this, I am no coward._

“Yeah, sure.”

* * *

“We have two bunks spare on the bus, so you can take those, we’ll have to move some things though, we’ve been sorta using them as extra storage places.”

Dwayne was showing them around. There was no trace of the bloodbath that happened on the bus earlier, everyone carefully avoiding mentioning anything about it. The rest of the band was gone from the bus, probably getting ready backstage.

“I think we could put this in the back,” he said, dragging a huge bag off the bunk. He opened it, looking inside.

“Ugh,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “It’s Marko’s animal memoirs, nevermind.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Star.

Dwayne reached into the bag, pulling out a dried out bird wing.

“Ugh,” said Star.

“Yeah,” nodded Dwayne and carefully put the wing back into the bag. “We’re just gonna dump this on Marko’s bed, it’s his useless shit anyway.”

He drew back the curtain on the other spare bed. The space was filled with various pieces of clothing that smelled like some unholy cocktail of sweat and alcohol.

“Oops,” said Dwayne. “We wanted to take this to a laundromat but forgot.” He quickly gathered the clothes and threw them through the curtain into the backroom.

“Okay, your sleeping places are set,” he said. “I gotta get prepared for the show now, I guess you two can do whatever you want, if there’s anything important Max is gonna find you anyway.”

With a little “see ya!” he left the bus.

“Okay,” said Michael, “So this is a thing that we’re actually doing.”

Star nodded, letting out a long breath.

“I feel like I’m gonna wake up any minute,” she said, “And all this will end up being just a wild dream.”

“That would solve so many problems, wouldn’t it?” said Michael softly.

Star rested her arm on one of the two spare bunks.

“I don’t think I really want to wake up though,” she admitted. “I know the situation is really messed up but I don’t wanna go back.”

They both stood there in silence, Star’s words hanging above them.

“Neither do I,” said Michael finally. “I guess I should but I can’t bring myself to feel too bad about it really.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Star wrinkled her nose.

“We should probably let these air for the night,” she said, gesturing at the beds. One of them was reeking of sweat and both of them smelled of medicinal grade alcohol.

Michael eyed the bag on Marko’s bed. The edge of the mummified wing was still poking out.

“Yeah, let’s get out, I still gotta call my mom anyway.”

* * *

They were standing at the backstage phone again.

“Come on,” said Star. “Do your thing.”

Michael gathered some change.

“What do I even tell her?” he asked suddenly.

“Hi mom, I know I disappeared suddenly for a whole day but don’t worry, I’m just gonna continue no coming home cause now I’m traveling with this random glam metal band which also happens to consist of actual real-life blood-sucking vampires? Oh, I forgot to mention, I got turned into one too! Please don’t worry about all the people I’ll probably end up murdering!”

Star shrugged.

“If you leave out the vampires and murders part it sounds good to me.”

Michael shot her a disbelieving look.

“Come on, you can do it!”

He turned back to the phone, taking a deep breath before inserting the coins and dialing up the number. He had to wait only a few seconds for it to get answered.

“Hi mom,” he said, cringing immediately.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

He cringed some more.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about that.”

A flinch.

“I know you did, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m in San Diego.”

“Uh, I’m afraid that won’t be so simple. I sort of-”

“No, the money is not an issue. Actually-”

“Mom, please let me finish.”

“Okay so my point is after the show my friend and I met the band-”

“She’s just a friend and she’s completely normal- No, mom, it has nothing to do with drugs, please can you let me finish?”

“Yeah, it turned out one of their roadies had a family emergency and they really needed someone to fill in his place so I said I would do it...”

“Don’t worry, they’re paying me, it’s no problem, they were pretty desperate… It was getting super late and there was no time to call until the next town.”

“Yeah I will, don’t worry, it won’t be that long. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll try not to do it so late. Say hi to Sam for me. Love you, bye.”

He put down the phone, letting out a deep breath.

“Done!” he announced unnecessarily.

“See, it all went well!” exclaimed Star.

Michael chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah I guess I was overthinking it a bit.”

The doors to backstage opened with a bang, a harried looking roadie rushing through. Michael’s nostrils flared, catching the smell of sweat and something very much alive under his skin.

Blood. It was blood.

The roadie was gone, shuffling through the back of the truck carrying all the equipment.

How far was he? Fifty feet?

From all that Michael knew about human anatomy, life experience and common sense, he knew he shouldn’t be able to still detect his scent.

But he did.

He smelled the sweat, the anxiety, the stress that was in poor man’s blood, he smelled that lately he’s been living off junk food, that he has a liking for Mexican cuisine and that he is slightly dehydrated.

Star licked her lips, also staring at the man.

The roadie found a bundle of cables and shut the doors, running back backstage.

Michael almost fell down on his face, trying to follow the man’s neck. Star wasn’t faring much better, her hand outstretched after the roadie, fingers curled into claws.

“Oh shit!”

Star looked down on her hand and quickly retreated it to her side.

“I didn’t think-”

“That was so freaky!”

“Do you think...” she trailed off.

“It’s gonna be like this all the time?” Michael scratched his head. “I hope not.”

Star nodded. They were standing there in silence, lost in thoughts.

“I wanna go back to the bus,” said Star.

“Me too,” agreed Michael.

Together they returned to the empty bus, moving like they were walking through a dream.

* * *

“How do these guys manage to go through a whole set without starting a bloodbath?” Michael wondered loudly.

They decided to sit on the sofas in the front section of the bus. The curtains to the back were drawn, allowing the sleeping areas to air.

Star shrugged. “Maybe it gets easier with time?” she suggested.

“Maybe that’s why they ate all these girls before the show,” said Michael.

“I don’t want to eat people every day,” quietly admitted Star.

They sat in silence.

“Those girls were just fans,” said Star after a while. “They must have been so excited to meet the boys.”

“One thing I don’t understand,” started Michael, “Is why didn’t we end up like them.” He looked at her.

“What made them turn us instead of just eating us?”

They sank back into silence.

Star rested her head on Michael’s shoulder.

“I don’t think I want to be a vampire,” she said quietly. “I just want to escape.”

Michael wrapped his arms around her.

“Didn’t you already do that?” he asked.

“I thought so.”

* * *

_Sleeping on Cindy’s couch was strange. It was a bit too small for Star and it smelled a little but that night she slept better than ever before. Cindy told her that she can stay for however long she needs and while Star didn’t want to be a burden on her she wanted to just stay at her place forever. _

_Cindy’s presence was positively intoxicating. Star found herself craving her smiles and looks, every single drop of attention feeling like pure heroin injected in her veins. Star knew this obsession with Cindy wasn’t healthy but she couldn’t shake it off. So she just hid her smiles behind her mane of hair and hoped that Cindy couldn’t feel the staccato heartbeat in her chest._

_They looked through the ads in the newspaper, finding a job for Star. It was reasonably paid, nothing too lucrative, but enough for Star to slowly accumulate enough to rent her own place._

_Even though Star prepared as we as she could, she still needed to sort out some more things. Her first stop was at the seat of municipality, sorting out her documents._

_She handed the lady at the window the completed form and a tiny photo._

“_Star, huh?” asked the woman._

_Star smiled anxiously and nodded._

“_Alright then,” said the woman, filing the documents away. “The new I.D. should arrive by next Friday. Goodbye.”_

_Star was giddy with joy as she left the building and joined Cindy who was waiting for her outside._

“_I’ve never seen anyone so happy about the paperwork,” joked Cindy, making Star laugh._

_It was such a beautiful, bright day and Cindy’s hair was shining in the sun as if it was made from gold. Star couldn’t believe she was just standing there next to her, as if she wasn’t the most beautiful creature to ever grace the face of Earth._

_They went to Cindy’s place._

* * *

“Do you think I can still eat garlic bread now?” suddenly asked Michael, making Star choke on her spit.

“What the hell?” asked Star once she regained her breath.

Michael shrugged.

“I just really like garlic bread,” he said defensively.

Star snorted. “I think vampirism comes with bonus garlic allergy.”

“Oh.” Michael visibly deflated. “I think I don’t wanna be a vampire anymore.”

Star playfully nudged him.

“Come on,” she said, “Don’t be a crybaby.”

“Yeah, yeah,” whined Michael and stood up.

“Gotta stretch my limbs a little,” he said as he walked up and down a bit. He stretched his arms above his head, making his shirt ride up, revealing a strip of skin.

“Yeah, absolutely,” said Star, eyes fixed on the revealed skin.

Michael rolled his neck, bones popping.

“Sorry about that,” he said with a faint blush. He bent over, trying to touch his toes.

“No problem,” answered Star absentmindedly, staring at where the jeans grew tight around his ass.

Michael straightened up again, cracking his back.

“Okay,” he said, voice slightly breathy. “I’m good now.”

“Maybe we could go sit on the entrance of the bus,” suggested Star. “It’s getting a bit stuffy in here.”

“Sure!”

Star rose and followed Michael off the bus. The jacket was long enough to cover most of his ass. Star lifted her look with a slight disappointment.

* * *

_Michael is nice, _thought Star. They’ve spent a while together now and there were several situations where they were left completely alone and he has never taken advantage of that.

It was an awfully low standard to have but so many guys had failed to meet it.

Star sat down on the stairs with Michael.

Just yesterday he felt so warm and soft. She was so cold now.

Star snuggled up to him, chasing after that warmth she remembered, but he felt like dead meat.

Maybe it was her that was dead meat.

Or maybe it was just the leather jacket.

They sat there in comfortable silence, resting against each other.

_BANG!_

The backstage doors were kicked open, Paul bursting through. He was followed by an equally energetic Marko and significantly more calm Dwayne and David.

“Hi Mike! Hi Star!” shouted Paul and ran towards them.

He skidded to a stop right before crashing into them.

“Guys!” he exclaimed, slightly out of breath. “The show was so good!”

Marko bumped into him from behind, making them both collapse on Michael and Star.

“Oh shit!” he exclaimed. He carefully peeled himself from Paul’s back and helped him get back up. “Sorry! I forgot how to stop!”

“We know you’re stupid,” said David with an affectionate smile.

Dwayne ruffled Marko’s hair. “There, there,” he said.

Paul offered a hand to Star, helping her stand up.

“No helping hand for poor Mikey, huh?” teased Marko.

“Fuck you, Marko,” answered Paul and offered his hand to Michael too.

Michael took it and got pulled up, but instead of letting go of his hand Paul just changed the hold of it and positioned them ready to dance.

“A slow waltz maybe?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

Michael blushed furiously and laughed. “Never learned how to dance,” he answered.

Paul let go of him. “Aw, too bad.” He gave Michael an exaggerated wink. “Would love to take you for a spin, doll.”

“Come on,” interrupted David, “Let’s get on the bus, you can flirt later.”

Paul dramatically flipped his hair.

“You’re just jealous!”

* * *

They ended up cramming on the couch in the back room again. This time Paul and Marko elected to sit on it too, but since there wasn’t enough space for all of them and Dwayne’s guitar Marko decided to sit in Paul’s lap.

Dwayne was softly strumming a melody, absentmindedly moving his fingers as they all joked around together.

“Anyway,” said Marko, gesturing wildly, “This chick throws her bra on stage-”

“A super sparkly one too!” interrupted Paul.

“Yeah, a sparkly one, with rhinestones and shit, I could see it even from behind the drums- what was I talking about again?”

“Then David picks it up,” continues Dwayne, body shaking with upcoming laughter, “And tries to put it on!”

They all laughed.

“The problem was,” said Paul in between the giggles, “That thing was meant for someone way smaller-”

“And he ended up with his shoulders hunched like this-” Dwayne put his arms in front of him and squeezing his shoulders into a shape as small as possible, looking incredibly stupid.

“Yeah and the ends that are supposed to hook were just flapping under his armpits!” finished Paul.

“Hey!” shouted David indignantly. “I look can good in anything! Even bras!”

“Not when they’re ten sizes too small,” commented Dwayne, triggering another giggling fit from Marko and Paul.

David crossed his arms and pouted. “Why are you guys always so mean to me?” he asked, a smile breaking through his pout.

“It’s because we love you!” exclaimed Marko, slithering out of Paul’s lap to smother David with a hug.

“And because you’re annoying,” added Paul.

“And because you’re annoying,” echoed Marko, voice muffled by David’s body.

“Geez, thanks,” grumbled David.

Dwayne turned towards Michael. “Wanna play some more?” he asked.

“I don’t wanna torture you with my awful playing,” replied Michael with a sheepish smile.

“We’ve told you last night that you’re already better than Paul will ever be,” said David. “So don’t worry about that!”

“Oh, fuck off!” yelled Paul. “Marko come give me a hug or else you’re a snake!”

Marko jumped off David’s lap. “I’m no cheap whore!” he said as David tried to stop him. Then he climbed onto Paul, holding him with all his limbs like a koala.

“Why do you never hug me like this?” whined David.

“Cause I’m his favorite,” retorted Paul.

“Do you still remember how the chords go?” asked Dwayne softly, pulling Michael out of the tennis match of the argument.

“Uh, let me try first,” he answered. He attempted strumming one of them. One of the strings buzzed loudly, but the chord was the right one. He changed it up to the other one. He strummed again, this time eliciting a disharmonious sound from the guitar.

“A little help, please?” he asked.

“Sure,” replied Dwayne, moving his body behind Michael so he could access the guitar neck. He gently moved each of Michael’s fingers into it’s place.

“Try playing it now,” he said, breath ghosting over Michael’s cheek.

Michael swallowed a lump in his throat and did as he was said. The notes were clear and lovely.

“Exactly like that,” Dwayne praised him. “Let me show you another one.”

Once again he placed Michael’s fingers into their positions, touch as light and gentle as before.

Michael strummed. It was a nice harmony.

“Now if you learn to transition between these three you’ll already be able to play a song.”

Dwayne patted Michael’s shoulder and backed off, looking expectantly at him.

Michael found himself missing the solid presence on his back.

_Okay, we’re not dealing with this tonight._

He played the first chord. Then he struggled to get to the second one. And slowly also the third.

The bickering around him died down.

“Yeah, let’s fucking go, Mikey!” yelled Marko in appreciation, making everyone laugh.

“Oh,” said Star, “When we were emptying the spare bunks Dwayne pulled out also a bag of your… Animal memoirs? What does that mean?”

“My darlings!” exclaimed Marko.

“He’s very attached to them,” explained Paul.

“Yeah, I fucking love animals!” said Marko enthusiastically. “I often have pets and when they die I preserve a part of them to always have them by my side!”

“Oh-kay?” said Star, wrinkling her nose. “Isn’t that sorta gross?”

“Oh, absolutely,” answered David.

“It’s not!”

Michael kept slowly strumming the chords. It felt easier to switch between them than last time but he was still very slow.

_ Maybe I’m just shitty at this music thing. _

“Don’t worry about not getting it immediately,” Dwayne assured him. “It usually takes at least a few hours if the chords aren’t too different.”

“Thanks,” said Michael. He really felt better about himself.

“Hey Star, your skirt looks a bit messed up,” said Paul, gesturing at the torn garment. “Do you need any spare clothes?”

“Oh,” said Star, looking down. The hole was very pronounced now, exposing a chunk of her thigh. “I didn’t realize it was that bad!”

“Don’t worry,” said David, “We have a plenty of clothes to borrow.”

“Are you sure they’ll fit, though?” asked Star.

“Of course they will,” answered Marko. “I stole most of mine from girls anyway!”

He slid off Paul’s lap.

“Hey David, fuck off,” he said, as he tried to open the cabinet behind him.

“Say please.”

“Okay, can you _please_ fuck off?”

David grumbled something about lack of respect and stood up, allowing Marko to finally open the cabinet.

It was filled with various jackets and vests neatly put on hangers and folded pants on the bottom. Marko shuffled through the stacked clothes and pulled out a pair of trousers.

“Maybe these?” he unfolded them, revealing dark velvet pants with golden thread on the side seams.

“They look beautiful,” said Star.

Marko turned back to the closet. “Maybe also a shirt to go with them,” he mumbled. After some shuffling through the clothes he pulled out a rococo style white shirt. “I think this one would go nicely.”

“This is just too gorgeous,” said Star. “Are you sure you want me to wear this?”

“Sure, you should try both of these,” said Marko, handing her the pants and shirt. “You can use the bathroom, it’s right next to the bunks.”

“Okay,” said Star, taking the clothes. “Thanks.” She left through the curtain.

“Michael, you should also update your wardrobe,” commented David.

“Why?” asked Michael, looking down on himself. “Nothing’s torn or dirty.”

“Yeah but it’s ugly,” said David.

Michael shot him a tired look.

Paul started giggling.

“Come on, it’s gonna be fun!” exclaimed Marko. “Though I don’t think my clothes would fit you.”

“Yeah, you could borrow mine,” said Dwayne, getting up and opening another closet. He shuffled through it, finally producing a pair of red leggings and leather pants with lacing on the sides.

“Oh no,” said Michael, slowly shaking his head. “There’s no way I’m squeezing my ass into those.”

“But that’s the point of these pants,” said Paul. “To have your ass squeezed in them.”

“Yeah, I think it would look really look in those,” said David.

“Can we _ please _ stop talking about my ass?” snapped Michael.

“You started it,” David pointed out.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Whatever!”

“Just try them,” said Dwayne. “There’s no need to keep them if you don’t like them.”

Michael sighed and took the pants. “Okay.”

He took his jeans off and put on the leggings. Then he started putting on the tight leather. He got up to mid-thigh when he stopped.

“I don’t think these will get any further up,” he said after giving them a few careful pulls.

“Oh, let me loosen up the lacing,” said Paul and crouched next to him. He started working on on leg, nimble fingers moving up his legs. Dwayne joined him on the other side.

“This should be good enough,” said Dwayne as they both finished their task. Both of them were now sitting on the floor on both sides of Michael.

He pulled the pants up and this time they slid up the way they were supposed to. He laced up the piece at the crotch.

“Okay,” he finally said. “I kind of feel stupid in this.”

“Yeah, now they’re too loose,” commented Paul and together with Dwayne he went back to work.

Michael looked over to David. He was sitting on the couch, legs sprawled wide and a sly smirk on his face.

“Stop looking at me like that,” said Michael.

“I’m just appreciating the view,” answered David, the pose and expression not changing at all.

“Can you not?” huffed Michael.

“It _ is _a very nice view, though,” said Paul. Him and Dwayne were finished tightening the lace and were slowly getting up.

“That’s not the point,” said Michael.

“How about this tank top?” loudly interrupted Paul, desperately trying to disperse the tension. He was holding up an old top with the Mötley Crüe logo on it. The fabric was almost transparent and there were several holes in it.

“Are you sure this is still wearable?” asked Michael dubiously.

Paul nodded enthusiastically. “Come on, the wear makes it look even better!”

Michael shrugged. “If you say so.”

He shed his jacket and his white T-shirt.

“Nice pecs!” shouted David.

Michael flipped him off and put on the top.

“How do I look?” he asked.

“Like a mash between a homeless man and a groupie,” answered David.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Can you _ please _shut up?”

“If you’d let me be your sugar-”

“Oh _ shut up! _”

Michael walked up to David. “You keep on provoking me for no fucking reason, what’s your fucking problem?”

David got up from the couch, their noses almost touching now.

_ That’s kinda weird. _

David smiled smugly, noticing Michael’s discomfort.

_ There’s no way I’m giving this fucker the satisfaction of seeing me back off. _

“If it bothers you so much, then why don’t you do something about it?”

Michael grabbed David by his collar.

“Motherfu-”

“What the hell is going on?!”

Star was standing at the entrance, looking at the two of them, all shocked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to make fun out of David in this chapter again but it was already getting really long so I guess I'll have to clown on him double in the next one ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	5. There's a Snake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath is dealt with but badly, and there's a snake in boys' boots
> 
> the title is not only a Toy Story reference, but also taken from a Crashdiet song Snakes in Paradise which is as always included in the playlist:  
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7eOUsWKU4soCsaoUMuBxPi
> 
> enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one took a while cause i've been super busy and not gonna lie, some parts were stupidly hard to write

Michael slowly released David as everyone looked upon, not daring to move. He took a step backwards.

“I think I’ll wait for that bus back to Phoenix,” he said, voice strained. “Enjoy the rest of the tour.”

He turned on his heel and walked up to the entrance. Star was still standing there.

“What happened?” she asked him.

“Just let me through,” he said.

She moved aside, letting him go. He walked briskly through the narrow gap towards the bus exit.

She turned towards the band which was motionlessly watching the whole exchange.

“What did you guys do?” she demanded. Everyone avoided her eyes, seemingly more interested in their shoes and the floor.

David cocked his head, signature smirk still resting on his face.

“Nothing,” he lied.

Star huffed angrily and turned around, going after Michael.

The back room was left in complete silence.

“Well, this could have gone better,” said Paul in a forcefully cheerful voice.

* * *

Star found Michael at the edge of parking lot trying to climb the fence. The doors were locked.

“Michael!”

He snapped to look at her.

“What?” he shouted, looking like a deer in the headlights.

“Come down!” shouted Star.

Michael looked at the spiked top of the fence. He slowly climbed down.

“I can’t climb in these,” he said, gesturing at the skin-tight leather.

“Yeah, I can imagine.”

Star sighed.

“Can you please tell me what made you so upset?” she asked.

“I’m not upset,” said Michael defensively.

“You were so desperate to go away that you didn’t even take your jacket where you left the money for the bus,” she pointed out.

Michael smacked his forehead. “That’s what was missing!” he exclaimed and blushed furiously.

Star looked at him expectantly.

“Okay, some things _ did _happen,” he admitted. “Mainly David acting like a total douchebag.”

“I guessed it must have been something like that,” said Star. “He _ was _ being sorta shitty to you since the beginning.”

She sighed.

“Why don’t we take a seat somewhere here and you tell me what happened?”

Michael nodded.

“Okay.”

* * *

“I mean it wasn’t anything major, really.”

They found a little concrete wall the separated one of the entrances from the rest of the parking lot. It was on the other side of the building, hidden from the Boys’ tour bus.

Michael was picking at the lacing of his pants.

“It was more a last straw, you know?”

Star nodded, placing a reassuring hand around his shoulders.

“He’s been constantly provoking me and then I’ve just had enough.”

He shrugged Star’s hand off.

“I just wanted to make the bastard stop,” he said, ire creeping into his voice.

“He’s made you uncomfortable, didn’t he?” asked Star.

Michael shook his head, looking at her confusedly.

“How do you know that?” he asked.

Star gave him a tired look.

“Oh,” mumbled Michael, “You’re a… Yeah. Of course.”

Star broke into a small smile.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I know how it is.”

“Anyway,” he continued, “If he breathes into my direction again, I’m throwing hands.”

“Perfectly understandable,” said Star. “But what about this whole vampirism thing?”

Michael groaned.

“I forgot about that.”

Star nodded.

“We’re essentially tied to them, aren’t we?” asked Michael.

“Unless you want to deal with being a fledgeling vampire all by yourself, yeah.”

“We should come back.”

Words hung about their heads.

“That’s it,” suddenly said Michael, getting up. “We’re going back and if David tries anything we’re staking him.”

He offered Star his hand.

“Deal?”

Star took his hand.

“Deal.”

* * *

They were standing in front of the bus doors.

Michael wrinkled his nose and stepped in.

There were voices coming from the back room.

“I’m just saying if we wake up dead one day that’s _ entirely _your fault.”

“Do you really think they’d stake us?”

“Well, if David would have been such an ass to me I would at least consider it.”

“Fair enough.”

“Hold up-”

Michael drew the curtain.

“We’re back,” he said.

Paul’s face brightened up. “That’s great-”

Michael raised up his hand.

“But if _ you-” _ he pointed at David, “-try anything I’m kicking your ass for real.”

David waved off his words.

“Don’t worry, I just wanted to see what I can do before you snap,” he said casually.

“_What?!”_

“Yeah, can’t have wimps in our midst, you know?”

Michael was looking at David for a few moments, breathing getting heavier and eyes wider.

Then he threw himself at David, hands balled up in fists.

“You fucker!”

The rest of the boys scattered away form the battling duo.

Dwayne quickly took Star by her shoulders. “Let’s just leave them work it out,” he mumbled as he led her out of the backroom.

Marko and Paul followed them, quietly placing bets on the outcome while the sounds of scuffling and hitting echoed behind them.

* * *

“Don’t you think someone should get them separated?” asked Star.

They were standing at the bus entrance. Various screams and crashing noises were head from the back and the bus would sometimes violently shake.

“Nah, we should leave them be,” answered Marko.

“They’re both vampires, they’ll heal immediately anyway,” added Dwayne.

“Vampirism makes you heal quickly?” asked Star.

Paul nodded enthusiastically. “Watch this!” he exclaimed and dug a knife out of his pocket. He stabbed it into his arm and then pulled it out. The wound sealed itself in mere seconds.

“Awesome, isn’t it?” asked Paul.

Star was still looking at his arm in disgust.

“If you say so.”

Paul shrugged. “I guess it must be a bit freaky at first,” he admitted. His face brightened up. “But after a while it gets really cool!”

The bus shook some more.

“_You motherfucker!” _screamed a muffled voice.

“Still going strong,” commented Marko.

“Are you _ really _sure we shouldn’t stop them?” asked Star.

Dwayne shook his head. “They’re gonna be alright,” he said in his calm, reassuring voice.

“If they break anything we’ll make them clean it up,” added Marko.

They stood in relative silence as the bus rattled with the movements inside and the muffled yelling buzzed in the background.

Suddenly Dwayne loudly slapped his forehead.

“Marianna!” he shouted and bolted inside.

“We gotta save Marianna!”

Paul and Marko exchanged looks, shrugged and dashed after Dwayne.

_ Who’s Marianna?? _

Star carefully stepped inside and poked her head through the first curtain.

There was nothing going on in the communal space, only the curtain to the bunks and backroom was still swaying.

“I swear if you two hurt Marianna-”

A loud, resonant crash interrupted Dwayne before he could finish the sentence.

“MARIANNA!”

Dwayne screamed in anger and the fight resumed, making the bus shake like a leaf in the wind.

Star approached the bunk space, drawing back the curtain. Marko and Paul were still standing at the entrance to the backroom, obscuring the view. A blur vaguely resembling Michael flashed through the view.

“I did not-”

The words were cut off by a David-colored blur flying in the same direction and landing with a loud crash that shook the entire bus.

“So it’s a party!” exclaimed Paul cheerfully and lunged inside, followed by an equally enthusiastic Marko.

More crashes and loud swearing followed.

“I think that’s quite enough,” said a clear voice from behind Star, making all the noise from the fight quiet down.

Max walked past her to the backroom.

“Stop it now, before you destroy the rest of the bus.”

Star slowly approached the entrance, peering inside.

The closet doors were all smashed up, the leather of the couch was torn and the stuffing was all over the place. On one side there was an exploded acoustic guitar.

The boys were all piled up in one corner and were reluctantly letting go of each other.

“Okay,” mumbled Paul, “But I didn’t damage anything yet.”

“Neither did I,” said Marko.

“Yeah, it’s all their fault,” said Dwayne, pointing at Michael and David who were disentangling themselves from each other and pointedly avoiding everyone’s eyes.

Max gave them both hard looks.

“You should have known better than to so recklessly destroy your environment,” he said sternly and then turned towards David.

“Especially you,” he said. “You’re supposed to be the leader and keep everyone in line, not incite arguments and risk public scandal.”

David rolled his eyes. “The public _ loves _ a good scandal, come on,” he said.

Max looked at him. “You know what I meant,” he said quietly, but his face was hard. He cleared his throat, face fixing into a more neutral expression.

“You’re lucky that the record sales are as good as they are,” he said to everyone in the room. “Paying for the repairs won’t be a problem, but you better behave yourselves for the rest of the tour. After all, your songs aren’t topping the charts anymore, are they?”

The band avoided his gaze, staring furiously at their feet.

“So that’s sorted out then,” said Max. “We’ll be leaving for Los Angeles soon, so don’t wander away.” He turned briskly on his heel and walked away.

An oppressive silence settled over the room.

Dwayne sighed.

“You’ve heard him boys, please don’t fight anymore.”

Michael glared at David. “We wouldn’t have this problem if _ someone _wouldn’t feel the need to act like a jackass any chance he gets.”

David’s eyes shot daggers right back at Michael. “Maybe if _ someone _ didn’t feel like solving every problem by fighting-”

“Stop it!” shouted Star.

“We were supposed to have fun and be friends but you two keep on butting your heads and ruining everything!”

She felt tears prickle in her eyes and furiously blinked them away.

“Can you _ please _ be nice to each other so I can have at least _ one _ good thing that doesn’t _ immediately _ get ruined?”

Michael rushed to her, wide-eyed and concerned.

“Hey,” he said as he gently placed his hands on her shoulders, “Are you okay?”

Star sniffled, the tears finally spilling over.

“Oh, _ fuck _ you _ , _” she said tearfully and fled.

* * *

_ Living with Cindy included also attending little concerts and parties at the local rock bar. Every weekend they went out and partied like no tomorrow, dragging themselves to work with awful hangovers and neck pain. _

_ It did suck, but it sucked only on Mondays and the thrill of a good show was always worth it, so Star didn’t really mind it. _

_ When Star got her first paycheck, they celebrated with Cindy by first buying Star new clothes and then getting blackout drunk at their regular bar. _

“_Pretty jacket you’ve got here,” said a voice. Star turned around, the gravity momentarily spinning around. A tall and handsome man inserted himself right next to them._

“_And a pretty friend,” he added, smiling at Cindy. He gestured at their empty glasses._

“_The next round’s on me!”_

* * *

“Star!”

Michael grasped after Star but she was already gone.

“Let her go,” said Dwayne. “She needs some time for herself.”

Michael helplessly gestured at the air where Star stood just a few seconds ago.

“But...”

He let his arms flop to his sides and shoulders sag.

“If you say so.”

“We should clean up some of this mess,” said David. Everyone murmured in agreement.

“Okay then, let’s do this!” shouted Marko cheerfully and making everyone cringe.

“Lower the volume, will you?”

“If it’s too loud, you’re too old!”

* * *

_ The mystery man introduced himself as Matt and they ended up spending all night talking together. He seemed exceptionally interested in Cindy and even though it made her feel a bit left out, Star couldn’t really blame him. _

_ After all, she wasn’t much different. _

_ They exchanged numbers and agreed to keep in touch. _

_ Next time they went to the bar Matt was already there and they chatted, danced and drank together. _

_ It became a routine, them going out and meeting up with Matt. Sometimes him and Cindy would excuse themselves to the toilet and left Star stew in her insecurities for a while before returning all disheveled and flushed. _

***

“_I offered Matt to stay here for a while, I hope you don’t mind?”_

_ Matt’s recently been kicked out by his landlord because he didn’t have enough for the rent and was looking for a place to stay. _

“_I mean, he’s always gotten along with you so I thought it wouldn’t be a problem.”_

_ Star nodded absentmindedly. The feeling of pure dread settled on the bottom of her stomach like a piece of rock. She swallowed down the lump in her throat. _

“_Yeah, no problem,” she said hoarsely. “It’s your place after all.”_

_ Cindy shook her head and offered one of her brilliant smiles to Star. _

_ It still sent a rush through Star, but now it was different. The first few weeks around Cindy and her blinding smiles felt like someone injected pure heroin in Star’s veins. Now she was hooked and she could already see her downfall in the same very thing that was once so heavenly. _

“_Come on, it’s your place too! It was so awfully dull and lifeless here before you came.”_

_ Cindy hugged her around the shoulders. _

“_We make decisions about our place together from now on, okay?”_

_ Star nodded, breathing in the smell of Cindy’s shampoo as her head was smushed into her neck. She hugged her back, committing the warmth and safety of the embrace to memory. _

* * *

Star found a nice little nook behind one of the trucks at the edge of the parking lot. She sat down slowly. Her bottom lip was still trembling, tears escaping from her face. She wiped them away messily.

“Come on,” she said to herself, “You can’t do this now.”

She sat in silence, focusing on her own heavy breathing and tried to ignore the memories flooding her brain.

“Oh, it’s you.”

Star looked up.

Max was standing at the other end of the truck, looking at her.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Star let a sad laugh bubble out of her throat.

Max chuckled awkwardly. “I suppose that was a rather stupid question, yeah.”

He slowly approached Star and squatted down.

“I hope you know that you can always talk to me,” he said gently. “I may be busy at times, but I can always make time for you if you’re feeling upset.”

Star blinked away the tears sticking her eyelashes together.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“If it’s a problem with the boys, just tell me and I’ll sort it out,” he said. “They always listen to me.” He paused for a moment. “They have to anyway, or they’re done.”

Star sent him an alarmed look.

He smiled at her and she schooled her features into a generic expression of tearful thankfulness.

“Thank you,” she said, “A lot, but it’s not their fault, I just needed some air.”

She wiped her face with the frilly sleeve.

“They’ve actually been incredibly kind to me,” she said and picked herself up. “Thank you for your offer, but now I’m gonna join them again.”

Max also stood up. “I’m glad there’s no issues with the boys,” he said, “And don’t forget that you can always talk to me!”

Star smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said and left for the bus.

* * *

“Do you think we could make a fire with all these splinters?”

“Don’t you think Max is gonna kill us?”

“Holy shit Marko, not on the _ bus!” _

Most of the mess was cleaned up. The splintered pieces of furniture were all in one pile on the floor and on the other side of the room was another pile containing the stuffing that escaped from the couch and other miscellaneous trash. All the boys were standing in the middle of the room, save for Dwayne who was sitting on the floor with the sad remains of the guitar in his lap.

“Dwayne, maybe you’d like to dispose of your guitar?” gently prompted David.

Dwayne shook his head and hugged its neck. The rest of the body rattled as the piece with the bridge got pulled by the strings. One of the smaller pieces slid off his lap and sadly plopped on the carpeted floor.

The curtain was drawn and Star stepped through. Her eyes were still a bit puffy and red-rimmed, but her face was clear of any internal distress.

“Hi boys,” she said, voice still rough from tears, “I’m back.”

“I’m sorry!” blurted out Michael, making her laugh a little. “About the arguing, I mean.” He blushed.

Star gave him a shaky smile. “It’s fine,” she said. “Just please don’t fight anymore.”

“So we’re cool?” asked David, offering a hand.

“Yeah,” Star nodded and shook his hand.

“That’s a relief,” said Dwayne. He looked back down at the wood that was once a guitar. “I still can’t believe you two destroyed Marianna like that.”

Michael’s eyebrows shot up.

“You named your guitar?”

“Duh.”

Dwayne tenderly petted the headstock. “Had her since the summer of ‘69. We’ve been through a lot together.”

Michael shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, I’m sorry about your guitar. I mean Marianna.”

Dwayne shook his head. “Apologies won’t bring her back,” he said solemnly.

Paul awkwardly patted Dwayne's head.

“Tomorrow we’re giving her a proper burial,” said Dwayne and tenderly placed pieces of Marianna on the torn up couch.

“Let’s get the booze!”

* * *

They decided to spend the rest of the night in the front common area, as the backroom was filled with trash. Dwayne disappeared momentarily behind the curtain, rummaging around the bunks as Marko took Jack Daniels and Jaegermeister out of the cabinets.

“Want some?” he asked, offering Jaegermeister to Michael.

“No,” Michael shook his head. “I drink that only for medicinal reasons.”

Marko rolled his eyes. “You have a bit of blood on your temple, medicate that.”

Michael reached up to touch his face, searching for the scratch.

“Where?” he asked. “I don’t feel anything.”

His fingers came away slightly smeared with blood anyway.

“It’s probably already healed,” said David before snatching Jack Daniels from Marko and chugging down about half of the entire bottle in one go.

Star watched him in both fascination and disgust.

“How can it be already healed?”

“Vampirism makes you heal faster,” said Paul cheerfully. He dug through his pockets. “Watch this!”

Star groaned, covering her eyes.

“Not _ that _ again!”

Paul froze, knife in his raised hand already ready to strike down. He pouted.

“You don’t have to watch if you don’t want to,” he said, slightly offended.

Star covered her eyes harder.

Paul shook his head. “You’re no fun,” he muttered and brought down the knife, stabbing it into his thigh.

“What the fuck?!” shouted Michael.

Paul just smiled serenely as the blood seeped into his white pants.

Then he pulled the knife out, making the blood momentarily gush out, before it stopped completely, leaving behind only a dark stain and a hole in the pants.

He pulled at the fabric, showing Michael the completely sealed and healed skin where the wound was just moments ago.

Michael wordlessly took the Jaegermeister from Marko and gulped down several generous mouthfuls.

Curtain loudly drew and through stepped Dwayne, holding an unlabeled dark bottle. He silently walked to the couch and plopped down.

“To Marianna,” he said, raising the bottle before uncapping it and taking a large swig. He passed it on to Paul, who repeated Dwayne’s actions, giving the bottle to Marko.

The smell of the drink inside was so strong that Michael felt like the alcohol in it was burning his nostril hairs.

The bottle went from David to him now.

“To Marianna,” he said awkwardly and took a swig. The liquor was of a disgusting, but unidentifiable taste and felt stronger than a disinfectant. He suppressed the need to cough and passed the bottle to Star.

She repeated the ritual and gave the bottle back to Dwayne.

He looked around the room, eyes stopping on Paul.

“Please don’t say you’ve been stabbing yourself again,” he said.

Paul pouted, making his best puppy eyes at him.

“But it’s fun! And educational!”

Dwayne kept staring at him.

“It’s really not,” he said and took another swig from the bottle.

“Anyway,” he continued, “Tomorrow we’re giving my girl a proper sendoff, but tonight we drink to her memory!”

Marko pulled out more liquor bottles and passed them around.

“I’ve already told you that I got her in the summer of ‘69,” said Dwayne. “But I didn’t tell you _ how _I got her.”

David respectfully chugged down the rest of his Jack Daniels.

“So I was hanging out in the middle of Idaho at the time,” Dwayne launched into the story, “I was looking for this legendary guitar maker but it was hard ‘cause he didn’t like people or something.”

Michael noticed the band settling comfortably into their seats – it seemed like that was going to be a long story.

“I knew he lived in the middle of nowhere, in a small forest hut, surrounded by the very best wood for guitars.”

He took a small sip and cleared his throat.

“I fucked up a little and got lost. No connection to the civilization, just me and my backpack with a little bit of food in it. I wandered around the forest for two days. I had to sleep on trees and hunt my own food.”

“Do we have more booze?” asked David.

Dwayne glared at him.

Marko stood up and collected several bottles, dumping them in David’s lap.

“Anyway, after _ five _days of surviving on my own in wilderness I finally stumbled upon a small road. I followed it and soon enough, one of those Volkswagen vans drove by-”

“I though it was pronounced as Volks-wey-gen,” interrupted Paul.

Marko snorted. Paul slapped his arm.

Dwayne glared at them as a catfight broke.

“Hey, stop it,” said David and poked them with his foot.

Marko and Paul settled down.

Dwayne pointedly cleared his throat.

“So the van stopped for me ‘cause I must have looked absolutely awful and it was filled with these hippies who were travelling to Woodstock.

They took me in and one of the people on the bus was this strange old lady who was clairvoyant. She offered to read my future in tea residue.”

Dwayne took a pause, looking extremely serious.

“I accepted and we sat down to do it. When she had looked into my cup, she screamed and dropped it on the floor.”

Michael leaned in closer to hear his words better.

“She told me that my death will come that summer,” said Dwayne, voice lowering. “And that it’s gonna come from what I love the most.”

“Wow,” said Star, “That’s messed up.”

Dwayne nodded sagely.

“Of course, I decided to at least temporarily abandon my search for that guitar maker and instead join the hippies on their way to Woodstock. It went okay until the van broke down on the highway. I decided to leave the guys since I was just leeching off them and went on on foot.”

He took a swig from his bottle.

“I was walking down this random road when a bus stops by and a man asked me if I need help. I told him about my situation, I actually had a whole breakdown, telling him about the prophecy and everything. He went back on the bus, said he had to quickly talk with a few mates.”

“We’re leaving for San Francisco now!”

Max poked his head through. “Everyone here?” he asked. “Everything okay?”

Everyone muttered their affirmations, making Max nod and disappear back into the driver’s booth.

“So yeah, he comes back and tells me they can take me with them. I accept and as it turned out, it was a tour bus of one of the bands coming to play at Woodstock.”

Dwayne leaned forward.

“But it was not just any band,” he said dramatically. “It was Jimi Hendrix and his band.”

Star gasped.

“Really?”

Dwayne nodded. “Where do you think I learned to play so well?”

“So Jimi knew I was looking for that guitar maker and he was actually looking for him too. He sat me down and grilled me on where and how can one find that guy. I told him everything I knew and as payment for the info he let me stay on the bus with them all the way to Woodstock.”

Dwayne cleared his throat.

“Nothing too special happened on the way there, I mostly played and joked and did drugs with the band.”

Michael snorted. “An understatement of the century.”

Star shushed him.

“So we come to Woodstock, it was just beginning even though Jimi and the boys were the closing band. I leave the bus, thank them nicely and go around, take a look and try to find someone to hang out with.”

He paused, clearly reminiscing.

“So I end up with this old wizard-looking dude smoking weed and he tells me that he makes guitars.”

“Was it-”

Dwayne raised his hand, silencing Michael.

“He makes guitars and he had one of his acoustic guitars there with him, so I ask him if I can try playing it.”

His face stretches into a dreamy smile.

“The moment I started playing I knew that it must have been _ him, _ the legendary guitar maker I was looking for before. But I remembered the prophecy and I put the guitar down, thanking me for letting me play it. Then I mentioned him that someone I know would be very interested in one of his guitars.”

“Just get to the fucking point!” groaned David, liquor bottles around him containing significantly less then they did before.

Dwayne glared at him.

“Anyway, we manage to get to Jimi’s bus and I seat the still high wizard man in front of a drunk and high Jimi Hendrix. But you see, the problem with that was that the alcohol made Jimi into a kind of an asshole and he end up throwing us off the bus for messing with his high.”

Star gasped, scandalized. Michael shook his head disappointingly.

Dwayne nodded sadly.

“Alcoholism is a very serious problem even in today’s rock scene,” loudly declared David, covered in empty bottles.

Michael and Star looked at him incredulously.

“Come on, move with the story so I can finally go piss,” said David, making Dwayne glare at him again.

“_ Anyway _, the dude was very upset with Jimi and he decided to give me that guitar in response to my passion and kind nature.”

“So that was Marianna?” asked Star.

Dwayne nodded.

“But before he lets me take the guitar he says that there’s something very important that I should know.”

He leaned forward, lowering his voice secretively.

“The reason why his guitars are so good is cause they bind to the owner’s soul. The more you play it, the better it sounds, but the more of your soul is lost to the guitar. If you play it too much you become obsessed with it, withdraw from society and slowly wither away.”

“Really?” asked Star, wide eyed.

“Yeah and then an UFO landed and the aliens abducted him.”

“What?!” screamed Star.

“Fucking hell!” yelled Michael, grabbing at his hair.

Dwayne started laughing loudly at her shocked face, the rest of the bad joining him.

“No!” he exclaimed. “I made it all up!”

Another fit of giggles shook his body. “And you two idiots ate it all up!”

Paul rolled and landed on the floor with a loud _ thump, _ still shaking with giggles. The rest of the band was in various states of breathlessness with hysterics.

Star and Michael screamed in frustration, prompting another round of laughter.

“How did you get the guitar then?!” shouted Michael.

Dwayne slowly managed to gather his breath and stop giggling.

“I stole a month’s worth of LSD from a random hippy and then I consumed it all at once and then woke up two weeks later on an abandoned Texas ranch with an old guitar next to me.”

Paul and Marko exploded in another fit of giggles, this time Star and Michael joining in.

“Oh, I’m gonna fucking piss myself from all this,” said David breathlessly.

“Then go to the fucking toilet you freak!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you probably hate me for the thing at the end lmao


	6. What a Drag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old friends are visited, Michael is clueless and there is more to the twisting in his stomach than just hunger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, I know that it's been a while but in my defence I was pretty busy and also posted two one-shots in between so yea
> 
> the title is from the song All the Young Dudes by Mott and the Hoople, as always also included on the playlist made for this chapter!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0HiZOkfmQyJOXwdBuVnD4X
> 
> enjoy!

Michael was woken up by an empty pit in his stomach. He laid in his bed in silence for a few moments, listening for any signs that others were already awake but the only thing he heard was the noise of the moving bus.

He moved the curtain open and peeked outside. All the other beds he saw were still occupied. The curtain to the other parts of the bus was glowing with the evening sun. It hurt Michael's eyes.

He drew back his little curtain and fell asleep again.

* * *

"We've arrived, wake up and get ready!"

Michael groaned and dragged his sorry excuse of a body out of bed. He was aching all over, hungry and as a cherry on the top he could feel a nasty migraine forming.

Next few minutes were filled with sleepy groans and tired yawns as everyone rolled out of their beds.

"My mouth tastes like dried out roadkill," complained David.

"Maybe you shouldn't have drunk all that booze," replied Dwayne, voice low and rough from sleep.

"I take offense to that," grumbled Paul, "Roadkill can actually be really good."

Star was silently fixing her new pants up.

“What is on the agenda today?” asked Michael.

Paul shrugged. “Fuck if I know,” he said.

“I need a new acoustic,” said Dwayne.

“We have a backup one,” said David, still grumpy.

Dwayne rolled his eyes.

“I can’t play that one, it gets out of tune every five seconds.”

“Aren’t all guitars like that anyway?” quipped Paul. He grinned at Dwayne’s death glare and high-fived Marko.

“I think I know one guy with a shop that is open this late where we can go,” said Dwayne.

“I sincerely hope it’s not one of your ‘old friends,’” said Marko said, making air quotes with his hands.

“What exactly is wrong with my old friends?”

* * *

The shop was a cramped, dimly-lit space, with rows of various guitars hanging from any surface possible. An old blues vinyl was lazily rotating on the player in the corner and a faint smell of cookies laced the dusty air.

The cash register was placed on a tiny counter behind which a long-haired mad with a goatee was sitting and reading through a wood catalogue. He was wearing round sunglasses despite the darkness in the room.

“Hey, Stanley,” greeted Dwayne, “It’s been a long time.”

The man jolted, dropping the catalogue and knocking glasses off his face, revealing bloodshot eyes blinking blearily.

“Dwayne!” he shouted. “It’s really you!”

He got up from his chair and hurried towards Dwayne.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” said the shopkeeper. He hugged Dwayne tight, eliciting a big smile from otherwise so somber man.

“I know,” said Dwayne, patting the man’s back.

“Are these all yours?” Dwayne asked once they let go of each other.

Stanley nodded.

“Yeah, some of them are twenty years old already!”

“He doesn’t seem that bad,” whispered Paul to Marko.

Stanley patted one of the acoustic guitars near him.

“This beauty is from ‘78 and still looking for a good home. Sometimes I get some snotty kids trying to snag her up, but she needs someone who knows what they’re doing.”

Dwayne nodded, appreciatively looking over the guitar.

“I’m looking for a sturdy acoustic,” he said. “One that won’t get out of tune from every temperature and humidity change and will be able to take some bumps.”

Stanley chuckled.

“Living the rockstar life, I see.”

Dwayne smiled shyly.

“In case the whole band standing behind me wasn’t obvious enough, yeah.”

Stanley looked behind him, eyes widening.

“I didn’t even notice you, boys!” he exclaimed.

He offered David his hand.

“I’m Stanley, an old friend of Dwayne’s, it’s so nice to see that the boy managed to find some friends, he was so awfully lonely back then!”

His smell invaded Michael’s nostrils. It was very human, but there was a tinge to it that made Michael’s stomach turn in disgust.

He shook everyone’s hands and stopped in front of Star.

“Oh, it’s so nice to see you with the boys!”

Star looked at him confusedly.

“Nice… to see… _me_?” she said.

Stanley nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, like Stevie Nicks said, every good band needs a woman in it!”

Star smiled and shook her head.

“I’m not _in _the band, you know?” she said.

Stanley scoffed.

“Of course you are!”

With that he gave her hand a final shake and left the group, disappearing in a maze of guitars.

Star looked at Paul and Michael who were standing next to her. They both shrugged.

“I think I have just the thing for you!” shouted Stanley. He emerged back with a guitar in his hands. It was a very simple-looking acoustic, with an exception of elaborate patterns painted along the edge of sound hole.

He handed it to Dwayne.

“Why don’t you try it out a bit?” he said. “You can take the chair in the corner, let me-”

He showed Dwayne the way to the corner. The boys followed him through the cramped space, Michael letting Star in front of him and himself going last.

“Wait,” said Stanley, placing hand on Michael's shoulder. The disgusting smell was making him sick. He didn’t want any of that on himself. Michael shrugged him off.

Others were focused on Dwayne, who was already sitting down and fishing for a pick in his pockets.

“What is it?” asked Michael, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“You look like you need a guitar,” answered Stanley. “Come with me, I think I have _just_ the perfect thing for you.”

“But I don’t need a guitar,” said Michael, even more confused.

Stanley shushed him.

“Of course you do,” he said in a tone that left no space for arguing. “Now come with me, I have that one in the back.”

He started weaving through the guitars to a gap on the wall, where a small door was hiding.

“Come on,” he said, “While the others are still busy!”

Michael hurried, feeling more and more bewildered. He followed Stanley into an even darker room that smelled distinctively of something _guitar._ The dust was tickling his nose, but that didn’t stop the smell of varnishes, wood and fretboard oils from invading his senses.

Stanley was digging through a stack of various boxes, finally producing a case. He put it on a table in the middle of the room, almost knocking some old bottles on the floor.

“This one is going to be perfect for you, I just know it,” he said, voice low but thick with excitement and passion.

He opened the case, revealing a beautiful semi-hollow body electric guitar. The natural light color of the wood was almost glowing softly in the dark as the light bounced of the polished hardware. The mother-of-pearl inlays were shaped as bird feathers, shining gently.

“The good old Tele,” said Stanley affectionately. “From the goddamn ‘69.”

Michael cleared his throat awkwardly.

“You know that I don’t actually know how to play a guitar, right?”

Stanley shushed him.

“You will, Dwayne will teach you if he isn’t doing that already.”

He picked up the guitar from the case, turning it around in his hands.

“It’s semi-hollow body, made from swamp ash with maple neck and maple fretboard-”

He knocked on the body, the sound ringing pleasantly.

“Hear that?”

Michael nodded unsurely.

“Beautifully bright, but still with a hint darkness.”

Michael blinked at him.

“The pickups are good old humbuckers, got them from a friend… they make for a muddier sound, but you don’t strike me as precision guy...”

Michael kept nodding. If there was more than five words that he understood from Stanley’s rambling, he did not show it.

“… Anyway you take care of this baby and make sure you play it loud and well!”

Stanley put the guitar back down and closed the case with a loud thud. He locked the case and handed Michael the key.

“Here you go, it’s yours now.”

Michael accepted the key, looking down at the case.

“Well?” Stanley prompted. “Come on, don’t just stand here like a lug, pick it up already and let’s go!”

Michael shook himself out of confusion, taking the case and following Stanley back to the shop.

* * *

“This guitar is just wonderful, thanks Stanley,” said Dwayne as they were standing at the cash register. Stanley was ringing up the acoustic, charging Dwayne way less than even Michael knew the guitar was actually worth.

A wave of anxiety rushed through Michael’s body. How much was that guitar worth? It looked expensive. And the case? That one looked fancy too, it couldn’t have been cheap either. Even if Stanley undercharged him too it would cost way more than what he currently had at disposal, Max’s money and all. Speaking of Max’s money, he had to return that. Is Max going to be mad cause he didn’t do it already?

He has just realized that Stanley had finished with Dwayne. He stepped forward, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“So, how much is it?” he asked, voice slightly shaky.

Stanley looked at him, surprised.

“I’m not charging you for that one, come on kid,” he said. “What kind of asshole would I be if I forced a guitar on you and then made you pay for it too?”

Michael visibly relaxed.

“Thank you,” he said, “I really appreciate it.”

Stanley laughed. “You better do, kid!”

He turned towards Dwayne, fixing him with an intense gaze.

“You better teach the kid well, you can’t have him messing with the wood’s cellular structure by playing badly.”

Dwayne nodded.

“Already on it.”

Michael shot them both alarmed looks.

“Cellular structure?” he asked, voice breaking.

“Don’t worry about that, kid, just focus on practicing.”

* * *

“This one was pretty tame for a Dwayne’s old friend,” said Marko. “You got my hopes up, Dwayne, and now I’m disappointed.”

Dwayne rolled his eyes.

“For you, yeah,” grumbled Michael. “You’re not the one who got dragged in the back to listen to him talk how a guitar is just prefect for you, a guy who can’t play guitar.”

Marko laughed. “You got me there!”

“Actually,” cut in David, “I think your playing is improving very quickly, all things considered.”

Paul gasped.

“You never compliment my playing like that!”

David sighed.

“Nevermind, I take it back. Everyone sucks and our music is shit.”

Paul pouted.

“Why are you so mean?”

“Hangover.”

“We don’t even get hangovers!”

They walked around a corner onto a new street. Michael sensed the people on it before they saw them. His stomach growled. A group of teenagers with teased hair dressed in leather and denim approached them.

“Oh no,” said Dwayne quietly.

“Abort, abort, abort,” murmured David, eyes racing around, looking for an escape.

“Hi!” exclaimed a girl in a form-fitting tank top with lipstick so shiny it was almost blinding Michael.

“Hey guys!” Paul smoothly took over, plastering his signature smile on his face. “How is it going?”

The girl and her friends giggled.

“Great, thanks! We’re all so happy you guys are playing here again!”

Paul leaned down so he could hear her better.

“Yeah, so are we, San Francisco is always a treat.”

“Who is that?” asked the girl, pointing a Star who looked back at her like a deer in the headlights. Her eyes were unnaturally bright, even in the dim street lighting. “Your friend?” The girl’s face scrunched up as she said ‘friend’.

Paul looked at Star standing behind him and dragged her forward, swinging an arm around her shoulders.

“Yeah this is Star, our friend who joined us for this tour together with Michael!”

Dwayne subtly kicked Michael to come up front and immediately tried to hide behind him.

“Uh,” said Michael intelligently. “Hi.”

The girl raked her eyes over him appreciatively, gaze landing on the painfully unsubtle guitar case by his side.

“So,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him, “I take it the new album will feature another guitarist?”

This one smelled so _good_. Young, healthy and full of life, too young to have messed it up with any drugs or alcohol. Michael cleared his throat, forcing himself to ignore the gnawing hunger.

“Uh, I’m just helping out,” he said awkwardly.

“Anyway,” said Marko, flashing the girl one of his innocent smiles, “We have a show to prepare for and we gotta go.”

“Even though we’d love to stay and chat some more,” added Paul.

“Oh,” The girl deflated. “But you’ll be around after the show, right?”

“Of course,” Paul assured her. “See you at the show!”

The girl giggled.

“See you!”

Paul waved her goodbye excitedly while the rest of the band hurried on. He got yanked along by Marko.

* * *

“That was so weird,” said Michael once they were a safe distance away from any potential fans.

“You’ll get used to it,” said Marko.

“It’s always weird,” said Dwayne half a moment later.

Michael looked between them.

“I take it it depends on a person?” he said.

“Yeah, but I’m sure you’ll totally get used to it!” said Paul optimistically.

“At least they seem to already like you,” said Star, grimacing slightly.

“Come on, don’t be so sour,” said Paul. “I’m sure they will get warmed up to you too!”

“She probably thought you’re a girlfriend of one of us,” said Dwayne.

Star nodded. “That makes sense,” she agreed. “I hope only that people won’t be so jealous all the time.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” said Michael. “You’re too nice for people to hate on anyway.”

Star laughed bitterly. “Are you sure about that?”

* * *

_Matt’s been living with them for a whole month already. In spite of his assurances he showed no inclination of actually finding his own place, preferring to stay at Cindy’s._

_For the first few days Matt slept on the couch, an unobtrusive guest. He would do the dishes and laundry to at least somehow return the favor of being let to stay at their place. He was looking for a new job, although unsuccessfully._

_Then one night Cindy let Matt in her bed and he never slept on the couch again._

_Star has just returned from her shift. Cindy wasn’t home yet, so it was only her and Matt._

_“You don’t seem to be our type,” he said out of the blue._

_“What do you mean?” asked Star. She was eating her dinner, leftover soup from the day before._

_“Rockers. Sinners. However you wanna call us.” Matt took out his pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips._

_“Looks deceive,” said Star in between the bites. “Do you mind smoking that outside?”_

_Matt ignored her and lit his cigarette. The sharp smell of the smoke invaded Star’s senses, making it hard to breathe._

_“See what I mean? Don’t be so sensitive,” he replied and took another drag, puffing the smoke straight in her face._

_Star coughed._

_“You don’t belong here, with us,” said Matt with an air of conviction. “You’re not gonna last long, I can already see it.”_

_He didn’t do the dishes that evening, leaving Star to do it._

* * *

_“Cindy’s gonna be upset,” said Matt, cigarette smoke swirling around his head._

_The sink was filled with dirty dishes._

_“Why don’t you do them?” asked Star. “You live here too.”_

_“Oh, come on,” said Matt and threw the cigarette stub in the dirty water. “Think about why would Cindy keep such a good girl like you around.”_

_He looked her up and down condescendingly._

_Star presses her lips together and took a few deep breaths. Cindy cared about Matt. Cindy would never believe Matt did anything wrong. Cindy was working late hours and coming to a full sink would make her upset because she would be too tired to do that too._

_“You’re good for taking care of the apartment,” said Matt. “It’s one of your strengths, making sure everything is cleaned up and tidied up so we can live good.”_

_He gestured at himself._

_“Do I look like someone who is good at housekeeping?”_

_Star hated it, but he was right. When he was doing the chores it was sloppy and clumsy. It happened more than once that she would find dried up remains of food stuck on a plate._

_“Cindy’s gonna come in about 30 minutes.”_

_Matt was smugly leaning on the counter next to her._

_Star turned away from him and picked the dish soap._

* * *

“You’re finally here,” Max greeted them. He fixed his gaze on Michael’s guitar case.

“I see you’re getting ready to stay with us,” he said.

“Uh,” replied Michael.

“Good, the boys need a rhythm guitarist anyway,” remarked Max. “You should probably join the soundcheck and get acquainted with the process.”

“Yeah, I wanted to show him the amps anyway,” said Dwayne. He tugged Michael to go with him, guitar case clanking around as its edges hit the walls.

* * *

This is my usual stack,” said Dwayne, gesturing at a stack of various boxes with knobs and cables strewn all around.

“It’s a pretty new Marshall, you can get a lot of distortion out of it-”

Dwayne turned to look at Michael who was standing next to him with a vacant look in his eyes.

“You don’t really know how this all works, don’t you?”

Michael shook his head.

Dwayne sighed.

“We didn’t really tell you anything, did we?”

“Not really.”

Dwayne stared forlornly at his amp.

“Okay then,” he said, sounding almost pained, “You plug the guitar in here and turn the knobs until it sounds good and then the music goes to the speakers.”

Michael nodded. “I can understand that.”

A stage hand walked past them.

“Sorry,” he said, plugging some cables and securing them to the floor with tape. “Just need to connect this to the mixing board.”

The man was probably in his early thirties, a perfect blend of health and maturity. He must have been running around a lot as his neck was covered in a sheen of sweat.

Michael’s nostrils flare. His blood was so close to the surface and he _knew _it would have tasted so good if only he could _sink his fangs in…_

“Hey buddy, are you okay?”

Dwayne’s voice tore him from his bloody daydreaming. He forcibly turned away from the stage hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied.

Dwayne was looking at his face for a few long moments.

“If you say so,” he finally relented. He tugged him closed, putting an arm around him under the guise of shoving him the details on the amp.

The hunger was still there, but his presence made it easier for Michael to ignore it

“The important parts that you need to know is where to plug in the guitar-” Dwayne pointed at the jack labeled as “INPUT,” “-And the volume knob.” He pointed at the knob labeled as “MASTER.”

Michael nodded.

Dwayne glanced at him. Michael was still a little out of it with hunger, eyes glazed over.

“That’s enough for you now,” said Dwayne, walking him to the backstage. He was still holding Michael, steering him clear of any roadies and other staff.

* * *

They entered the dressing room where the rest of the band was sitting and getting ready for the concert. Star was there too, lounging on a couch in the corner, looking deep in thought.

“You two done?” asked David.

“Yeah,” said Dwayne. He took his guitar that was lying on the sofa and started playing various warm-up exercises, ignoring everything and everyone that was not his guitar.

Michael sat down next to Star, who barely registered him. He started picking at the lacing on his pants.

He was still wearing the clothes given to him by the boys. Last night he felt too tired to bother with the tedious process of loosening the lacing to change out of the pants and the tank he was wearing was too comfortable to bother him. The jacket and shoes were the only pieces of clothing on him that were actually his.

He glanced at one of the mirrors opposite of him. An almost empty room stared back at him. Star’s and his reflection were still there, but they looked like ghosts of themselves, barely there and dead.

He looked closer.

There were dark bags under his eyes and his cheeks were sunken. The natural healthy glow that his skin always had in the summer was gone. His eyes looked irritated.

Or maybe that was just the transparency doing its tricks. He could see the pattern of the couch right through his reflection.

_God, I am so hungry._

Marko and Paul were quietly chattering in the background and David was writing something on a random scrap of paper. The thin sound of Dwayne’s unplugged guitar kept droning on. Next to him, Star was still lost in thought, mindlessly playing with the buttons of her shirt, a faraway look on her face.

Michael stood up.

“Just gonna go outside for a breather,” he mumbled to no one in particular and escaped out of the room.

It was downright oppressive, sitting in that room, almost completely empty, but filled with people he knew for just three days. Nights. Whatever.

He slid into this life so easily, despite spending such a short amount of time together he was already used to Star’s gentle presence at his side and the boys’ constant fooling around.

There was a gnawing feeling in his gut that was not hunger.

It was guilt.

He felt guilty for adjusting to the situation so easily, for not really thinking much about his mother or brother or even father, for not wanting to go back to his family, for enjoying the current situation despite knowing how wrong it was. He felt guilty because there was a voice in the back of his head, telling him that _people die all the time, one more won’t make a difference, just sink in the fangs and finally make it r e a l-_

He shook his head, continuing down the corridor. People passed him, each more tempting than the other, but he pressed on, searching for the exit.

He finally found it, bursting through the doors and breathing in the fresh night air. It was different from before he drank the blood and became a fledgeling. There were so many scents that he never registered before, it was almost overwhelming now that he actually paid attention to it.

There was a payphone on his left, making the guilt tighten the knot in his stomach even harder.

He dug in his pockets, for change, finding some meager coins. There were enough for a short call, just enough to reassure his mother that he was doing fine and to end it before she makes him regret anything.

He inserted the coins and punched in the number. After just a few moments of ringing, it was already picked up.

_“Hello?”_ asked a familiar voice.

“Hey Sam,” replied Michael. “Is mom near?”

_“No, she’s just showering. She told me to watch the phone in case you call.”_

“Okay, I didn’t have a lot of change on me so we gotta cut this short. I just wanted to let you guys know that I’m doing fine.”

_“I’ll tell Mom.”_

“How are things for you, anyway? You guys doing fine?”

_“Yeah, we’re holding up pretty well. Bought a new Batman comic today.”_

“That’s nice.”

_“Yeah.”_

“I think we’ll have to stop now. I’ll call again tomorrow, okay?”

_“Okay.”_

“Take care of Mom and don’t do anything stupid since I’m not there to bail you out!”

_“Yeah.”_

There was a short pause on Sam’s end.

_“Please come back soon. We miss you.”_

Michael got choked up.

“I miss you too, Sam.” His voice broke slightly. “Take care.”

_“Bye.”_

“Bye.”

He put down the phone, taking a deep breath. The exchange took out of him way more than he expected.

“It’s tough, isn’t it?”

He whipped around, finding David leaning on the wall at the entrance.

“What do you want?” he snapped.

“Nothing,” replied David. “I just came out for some fresh air.” He unglued himself from the wall and approached Michael, putting an arm around his shoulders.

Michael tensed.

“What are you playing at?” he asked.

“Nothing, I’ve just told you,” said David, getting annoyed for a moment. He held the expression for a moment, before his features softened.

“Look,” he said, steering them into a more secluded portion of the venue’s backyard. “I know this may be shocking to hear, but I am not a total asshole.”

Michael snorted.

David rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, I just wanted to say that I know what is it like. Being torn between this life-” he gestured at self, the tour bus and the venue, “-and your family.”

Michael raised a dubious eyebrow.

“You do?”

They found a bunch of empty crates neatly stacked on each other and sat down.

David looked at the floor, looking for words.

“My transition was… lengthy.” He sounded almost pained. “Trust me, it’s easier to just cut them off immediately. You don’t wanna drag this out.”

“This also sounds like the most convenient course of action for you.”

David glared at Michael.

“You seriously think I’m still trying to get you or whatever?”

Michael looked at him.

“It’s been less than a day that you vowed to stop messing with me.”

David sighed.

“Okay, that’s fair.”

He leaned back.

“I was also tricked into drinking the blood,” he said, eyes staring at nowhere in particular. “I didn’t want to leave my family. It was my duty, being there for them, right?” He finally met Michael’s eyes.

Michael nodded.

“I know what’s it like,” he said quietly.

“So I kept putting the first kill off, trying all sorts of ways to survive – before it crosses your mind, no, animal blood is not enough to sustain you.”

“What happened?”

“I got so starved, I refused to be among humans from fear of losing control. But I still had to meet up with my family and one night...”

David was looking at his shoes now, hands picking at the edge of his coat.

“I lost control and killed all of them.”

David cleared his throat.

“So yeah, just cut them off and eat someone random while you can still control yourself. Better to leave them alone and sad rather than kill them cause you couldn’t cope with going your own way.”

David abruptly stood up.

“I gotta warm up, see you later.”

He walked away, leaving Michael to mull over the new information.


	7. Turn DIamonds Into Coal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lots of thinking is done and there is some nancy drew-ing going on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that the quarantine isn't too bad for you here's another chapter to cure boredom with
> 
> the title is a reference to Blies Pills' song Devil Man which is as always included in the chapter playlist which you can access here:  
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7b5WlEIBiEjHFQymWYdjH7
> 
> enjoy!

_" I didn’t want to leave my family. It was my duty, being there for them, right?”_

Michael couldn't help but wonder what other secrets is David hiding under his tough exterior. Yeah, he did act like a detached, aloof asshole and quite frankly he got on Michael's nerves most of the time, but there must have been a good reason why he was the bonafide leader of his small vampire gang.

The revelation regarding the hunger and animal blood wasn't doing anything to calm down Michael's thoughts either. It's been just two nights since he drank the blood and he's already came close to losing control on several occasions. How long can he hold onto his remaining humanity?

The scariest part was probably how all things considered he wasn't overly opposed to killing people. Everything for survival, right? His moral code was hanging by a thread and the more time he spent with the boys the thinner the thread got. He suspected that if he was to witness another carnage, he was done for.

Michael shook his head. There must be a way out of this and he'll find it.

Star probably wasn't doing that well either.

Michael stood up. He better check up on her.

* * *

Star was still lounging in the same backstage room. The band was now fixing their hair, applying make up to each other's faces and doing last-minute checkups on their instruments.

“There you are,” said David calmly. He was putting on his leather gloves. “Almost missed the starting time.”

“Gonna watch the show?” asked Marko as he was applying obnoxiously shiny lip gloss on Paul. It was hot pink and had about the same concentration of glitter as hearts drawn by schoolgirls on valentine cards.

“You should totally watch!” exclaimed Paul excitedly, making Marko smear the lip gloss.

Michael snorted.

“Great, now you’ve ruined my hard work,” complained Marko and started cleaning Paul’s face.

“Sorry,” said Paul, trying not to move his lips much.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Three minutes to go!” they shouted.

“We better get going,” said David.

The band put away their make-up and followed David through the door, leaving Michael and Star alone in the room.

“You gonna come with them?” asked Michael.

Star twitched.

“What?” she asked. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention, what is going on?”

Michael pointed at the door. “The concert is gonna start now, should-”

A hand grabbed him and tugged him out of the room. Star watched the door for a few moments before sighing and leaning back on the couch.

* * *

“You’re gonna be late,” said Paul as he dragged Michael with him down the corridor.

“But I was talking-”

“She’s gonna come behind us, don’t worry.” said Paul. “Dwayne said you should watch so you’ll learn about live performing.”

They stopped at the little curtain that led towards the stage. The other three_ Lost Boys_ were there waiting for them. A roadie handed Paul his bass.

“Alright, boys,” said David. “You know what we gotta do, so let’s do it.” He clapped each band member on the back. “Let’s fucking rock.”

The smoke machines started loudly puffing out mist and the lighting through the curtain changed, making the audience erupting in excitement.

Marko waved at Michael and then ran through the curtain. The fans met him with deafening cheering as he started beating his drums. Paul gave Michael a cheeky wink as he started playing the now familiar bassline and ran through the curtain as well.

Even though he was following the intro from the backstage, Michael couldn’t help but feel nervous as well. He felt like a ship crew member watching marine researchers jump in the deep one by one.

Dwayne finger gunned him and stepped on the stage, leaving Michael alone there with David.

“You better watch and learn,” said David before disappearing through the curtain as well.

The roaring of the crowd was so loud, Michael could barely hear what was going on onstage.

He stood there for the first song, listening to the crowd and peeking through the curtain. It occurred to him that he could have found the way to the side of the stage, but he didn't want to go there. It felt too much out there, too close with the boys, too officially _with _them.

He turned around and made his way to the little dressing room backstage.

Star was still there on a couch.

"Hey," said Michael softly. He gently closed the doors behind himself and sat down on a couch.

Star glanced up to him and nodded in acknowledgement. She sank back into her daze.

"What is going on?" asked Michael. "Ever since we came back from the store you've been off."

Star sighed.

"I know, I'm sorry," she said, tilting her head so her mane of hair obscured her face.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" gently prompted Michael.

Star sighed again.

"You all seemed like you were having such a good time together, I didn't wanna ruin the mood."

"But you are a part of the group too," said Michael.

Star moved her mass of hair, allowing her to look at Michael directly.

"Am I really?" she asked. "Because I feel like I'm slowly falling behind."

Michael moved so he could look at her properly.

"What do you mean?" he asked, confusion coloring his face.

"You know," said Star, "The boys really took to you, you're practically one of them."

Michael opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced by Star's hand.

"They're really working on making you their rhythm guitarist, you must have noticed that."

Michael nodded.

"But me, I'm just..." Star shrugged helplessly. "I'm just hanging out in the background. I am just there because they gotta put me _somewhere_, like I'm not really important."

"Star, you _are_ important to us. You are important to _me_."

Star looked at him mournfully.

"Am I?" she asked. "If I disappear tomorrow will you even feel it in any way? Will you miss me for longer than the first five minutes?"

"Of course I will."

Star sighed.

"Speaking from experience," she said, "And I don't mean this as an attack on you as a person, but I don't think you will. The boys will make sure you'll be too busy for it anyway."

"Star, come on, I am sure that people missed you and cared about you."

Star laughed bitterly.

* * *

_"Hey, The Lost Boys are coming to town next Friday, wanna go?"_

_For once Matt was busy outside. Cindy has just returned from her shift and Star was making a dinner for everyone._

_Star turned around._

_"Really?" she asked, tentative hope painting her features._

_Maybe this will prove to be the one thing to bring them back together._

_Cindy nodded, a big smile on her face. For a moment she seemed to have been glowing just like the first time Star met her._

_"Of course!" exclaimed Star. "What are the prices? Can we afford them?"_

_Cindy laughed._

_"Always the practical one, huh," she said. "Don't worry about that, I've already got them, Nick from the record store had a pair for cheap."_

_She reached into her purse, pulling out the tickets, placing them on the table. Star took them in her hands, feeling the sturdy paper with her fingers. It felt so unbelievably real._

_The doorbell rang._

_"Oh, it must be Matt," said Cindy, going to the doors to unlock._

_It was him, smelling like cigarettes and clutching a bag with bottles, probably having been to a liquor store._

_"Hey girls, how is it going?"_

_He put down his liquor bottles on the counter and took out his wallet._

_"I got something special today," he said with a fervent note in his voice. He searched through the wallet, producing a small plastic bag._

_"Here it is," he said triumphantly. "Pure cocaine."_

_Star eyed the little bag. It couldn't have been very cheap._

_"You're awesome, Matt!" exclaimed Cindy, rushing to the table. "Is this for tonight or for a special occasion?"_

_"I saw that you're free next Friday," answered Matt. "We could make it into a special evening."_

_"I was actually thinking..." Cindy trailed off, glancing at the tickets that Star still had in her hands. Then she shook her head. "Nevermind."_

_She took the cocaine in her hands, looking at it intently._

_"It's been such a long while since I've had any of this," she said, eyes unnaturally bright._

_Star pocketed the tickets. No one noticed._

* * *

"I'm just tired of all this," said Star. "The boys might like playing at being rockstars but I don't like this situation at all."

She glanced at the doors and leaned in to speak directly to Michael.

"There is something about Max that I don't like. I don't trust him."

"Oh, I thought I just didn't like him cause he scolded me for wrecking the bus," said Michael too loudly.

Star shushed him.

"You sorta deserved that one, but I'm talking about something else."

Michael shot her an inquiring look.

"Remember when after the whole mess I stormed off?"

Michael nodded.

"Well, Max found me and while he was trying to be friendly with me, he said something that made me think - he said that the boys have to do what he says."

"Don't you think it was just a manager thing?"

Star shook her head.

"Remember how they acted when he scolded everyone?"

"I've never seen them so- so- _subservient _to anyone."

"I think they're trapped in some sort of contract that they can't get out of."

"Don't you think they'd just - yanno - _eat_ him?"

Star shrugged.

"There must be something keeping them from doing it. Maybe he's a hunter?"

Michael nodded.

"Could be."

They sank in silence, contemplating their findings.

"Are we really saving vampires?" suddenly asked Star.

"Star, _we're_ vampires," replied Michael. "Don't you think we're on their side by default?"

"I mean yeah," said Star, "But we're not the proper ones yet, right?"

"How do you mean that?"

"Have you seen the boys even peek outside before sunrise? And while you did heal very fast after that fight, it still wasn't as freakishly as Paul."

The gears in Michael's head started visibly turning.

"Maybe the whole transformation takes a while..."

"And that's why they want us with them, so we won't figure out how to reverse it!"

Star looked at him, strange gleam in her eyes.

"Maybe we could be saved!"

They both leaned back in their seats.

"This is unbelievable, Star!"

She looked at him giddily.

"I know, right? We can live like normal people still!"

"How do we get back to normal, though?"

"No idea."

* * *

Star stood up.

"I'm just gonna go around," she said.

"Okay," replied Michael. "I think I'll get back to the stage."

Star nodded in agreement and left the room.

She walked along the corridor. Now and then a person would pass by her, venue staff or a roadie, but the corridor was mostly empty.

There were doors scattered along both sides. Star looked around and tried one of them. It opened easily, revealing a broom closet. She closed it and continued on to the next one.

It was locked, but it had a ventilation grilles on the top. She looked around once more, making sure no one was coming. She went back to the broom closet, taking an empty bucket and placed in front of the locked door. She peered through the grilles.

The air was musty and had an oily, metallic tinge to it. They probably kept equipment in there, she realized. She quickly stepped down and put the bucket back where she got it from, pressing onwards.

There was another door, slightly ajar. Star carefully peeked in, seeing a small room with a table, surrounded with a couch and a few armchairs. There were papers strewn on the table, but no one was inside. She slinked in.

* * *

Michael got up and stretched. He wanted to go to the stage and be with the boys again. Their energy was infectious and he found himself craving it. He left the room.

He discreetly snuck to the side of the stage, finding himself in the company of backup guitars, extra strings, cables and miles of tape. There were a few roadies and venue staff standing at the side too.

He moved a bit away from them and turned his attention to the stage. Dwayne was in the middle of a solo and Paul was banging his head on the other side of the stage. David had his back turned from the audience and was busying himself with a water bottle at the drumset. Marko was bashing it hard enough to make the platform that he was on wobble dangerously.

David glanced at the side of the stage and nodded to Michael. He put the bottle down and turned back to the crowd. Dwayne's solo was coming to its peak. David was at the mic stand, encouraging the audience to clap to the rhythm. The faces in the audience were fully caught in the moment, completely devoted.

This was him just a few nights ago, realized Michael.

He looked back to David on the stage. He was relishing in the attention, drinking in all the devotion from the crowd. He sang the chorus and as he turned around Michael caught a strange gleam in his eyes.

They finished the song and launched right into next one. Dwayne noticed him in between and gave him a curt nod. Paul also noticed him when he was running around and in a typical Paul fashion got distracted in excitement that he fell over. Despite everything he still somehow managed to keep playing and as Michael was laughing at him he couldn't help but feel respect towards him. These boys were performers through and through and nothing could stop them from rocking on.

Now that he was being groomed into a band member, watching the concert had a different dimension to it. Michael did his best to analyze the performance and felt his head spin with the layers that went into it. The band seemed to meld all into one mind, filling in for each other and always knowing when to step into the front and when to back off.

As much of a leader as David was, he still didn't hog the spotlight, giving other members their chances to shine. When it was time for his spotlight though, he seemed like he was the only person on the planet that was worth paying attention.

It was time for one for the songs that required David to get the guitar. He approached the side of the stage where a roadie was already waiting for him with a guitar.

"This is gonna be your job soon," muttered David to Michael as he fumbled with his coat. He finally got rid of it, taking the guitar and returning to the center of the stage.

The slow sad song started playing and Michael felt the familiar prickle of emotion. He blinked away the forming tears and refocused on how the performance.

* * *

It was a contract with the venue. Star skimmed through it. It was basic things, lists of equipment, needed staff, and parking space. She turned the sheet of paper. There was a clause that attracted her attention.

“All religious items are to be removed from all areas that performers will have access to.”

_Does this mean that the myths about crosses and holy water repelling vampires were true?_

She kept looking.

“In case of conflict between any of the venue staff and the band any complaints or lawsuits are to be issued to the band’s manager, Max Lawrence.”

_Is this another display of Max’s control over the boys or is it just him protecting them?_

Star read the rest of the contract but it didn’t include anything else of interest. She put the contract back on its place on the table, making sure that there weren’t any traces of her presence.

She went back to the door, peeking out and checking the hallway.

“I _know_ it’s dark at night, we’ll just use a lot of lights!”

She quickly pulled back in and quietly closed the door, leaving a small gap so she could listen to what was going on outside.

“I know it’s gonna cost extra but they’re _not _filming during day!”

It was Max’s voice, footsteps slowly approaching. He was probably talking on a mobile phone.

“Yeah, I need that done by the twentieth so we can send it to MTV in time.”

The footsteps sounded dangerously close and Star hid behind the door, holding her breath.

“Okay, so everything’s set. Goodbye.”

The steps stopped, now unbearably close. There was a beep, presumably Max ending the call. Star held her breath.

And the door opened.

Max walked into the room, right past Star who was hidden only by the opened door. He put down his phone on the table and started taking off his suit jacket.

_Oh no, he’s gonna stay in the room._

There was no way Star was able to escape through the door without drawing attention. She looked around the room, panicked.

Her gaze landed on the couch. It was covered with a decorative blanket that was hanging a bit down the back side. Not much, but better than nothing. Better than the door.

Max was putting his jacket on one of the chairs, back turned towards the couch. If she wanted to do anything, now was the time.

She tiptoed from behind the door and quickly dove behind the couch. She did her best to make herself as small and invisible as she could.

She heard the sound of footsteps, then closing door. The footsteps resumed and a weight dropped itself on the couch. There was some shuffling and the noise of papers being leafed through.

Star dropped her chin on her knee. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Michael was looking at David. His eyes had that unnatural shine to them that he noticed before too. The band finished the song. Paul, Dwayne and Marko were brushing off sweat and drinking water, but David seemed to be positively glowing as he stalked the stage. The audience below looked exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

"How is everyone doing tonight?"

The crowd erupted in cheers, the exhaustion completely forgotten. Michael thought of the night when he was one of them - the emotional rollercoaster that he rode and the clearness of his mind afterwards, how there was no space for emotion, just pure adrenaline.

* * *

The boys now played their last song and were tossing setlists and bumping fists. Michael moved to the backstage, waiting for them to be done. He looked around, hoping to see Star, but all he saw was the crew buzzing around.

The boys pushed through the curtain, bodies gleaming with sweat and a sense of accomplishment in their eyes. David patted Paul and Marko one their backs and gave Dwayne's shoulder a firm squeeze.

"Great show, guys," he said, a tinge of affection and pride creeping in his voice.

"Hey, Michael!"

Paul excitedly waved over to Michael and weaved through the bustle towards him.

"What did you think about our show? I can't wait to have you with us on stage too!" He slung his arm around Michael's shoulder and dragged him to the rest of the band.

"Hey, where's Star?" asked Marko.

"She said that she was gonna go around a bit," answered Michael and pried himself from Paul's sweaty, sweaty grip. "She's probably exploring the backstage."

"She'll find us when she'll be done," said David. "We're not that hard to find anyway."

They found their way to the dressing room backstage. There was a pile of towels at the mirror that the boys took and tried to dry themselves off. Dwayne went to the basin in the corner and washed himself the best he could.

"We gotta give Marianna a burial," said Dwayne once he was somewhat clean. "Where's the gasoline?"

"Gasoline?" weakly repeated Michael. "Just what kind of burial do you have in mind?"

A knock interrupted them. The doors opened, revealing a stressed-out looking woman.

"David, Max needs to see you," she said. "Right now."

David sighed and got up.

"I'll be right back," he said to the rest and followed the woman out of the room.

"We can go find your gasoline, Dwayne," said Marko and nudged pouting Paul.

His face immediately brightened up at the suggestion. "I love gasoline!" he exclaimed and bounced towards the door. "We'll be back soon!" he shouted from the corridor, voice muddled through the wall.

Dwayne grabbed his guitar and placed it in Michael's hands.

"Practice time," he said. He rubbed his hands together, eyes gleaming with anticipation. "I thought I should show you some nice warm-up exercises."

* * *

She couldn't feel her legs or lower back. In fact, her shoulders stopped hurting now and were numb too. Max has been relentlessly lounging on the couch without giving her any chance to even readjust her position.

He wasn't even talking anymore, he was just silently leafing through papers and sometimes scribbling a thing or two.

Star felt like she was entitled to some financial compensation from all the movies and books that would portray spying as something cool and exciting.

It wasn't like that at all. It sucked.

After what seemed like an eternity, Max finally got up and opened the door. She peeked from behind the couch. He put his head through and stopped a random roadie.

Star took a moment to readjust her position, her body painfully complaining about the current accommodation.

"Hey, can you get Maria and tell her to bring David here once they're done with the show?"

Star hid back behind the couch just in time as Max closed the door and sat back down. She heard the rustle of paper and mentally sighed. The pain was already settling back in with the new position.

* * *

After what seemed like an eternity, there was a loud knock on the door.

"Maria said you needed me?" asked a familiar voice. There was the sound of door closing.

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about the new album."

Sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate. No sitting down.

"What about it?"

"You'll have to do better this time. We can't have another release disaster with a random album from _last year_ charting higher than yours."

There was a sigh.

"You know we can't control what the masses want or think."

"That's not entirely true and you know it."

The tension in the air was so thick, Star felt like she could cut it with a knife. She hadn't even dared to breathe.

"You're saying we should get people to like our music through _mind tricks?_ Even I wouldn't go that low, let alone Dwayne."

"Then make better music!"

Max was angry now and the idea of him losing control over his calm behavior sent chills down Star's spine.

Max stood up, the springs in the couch squealing in relief.

"We need to get that number one position on charts. I'll take care of the marketing and you take care of making something people will actually want to listen to. If you guys don't step up soon the musician principles will be the last thing on your minds."

"You may be our sire, but we're not your _pets," _spat out David and briskly walked out of the room, doors banged shut.

Max was standing there in silence for a few moments before sighing and picking up his papers.

"The disrespect..." he muttered and gathered his things, presumably putting them in his briefcase. There was a lot of shuffling around before finally, mercifully, the doors opened and the footsteps disappeared outside, leaving Star to sprawl over the floor, bones aching and head spinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully staying home all the time is gonna make me write this faster though I've been working on some other fanfics for other fandoms so who knows ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	8. Am I Happy Or In Misery?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're so, so cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'VE FORGOTTEN TO POST ONE PARAGRAPH SO IF YOU'VE READ THIS CHAPTER WITHIN LIKE A DAY OF POSTING THERE'S LIKE 600 EXTRA WORDS
> 
> quarantine sucks and this took horribly long but at long last...
> 
> as always, the link to the playlist is here:
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0CqIyyVmv7LuBom3RDTKUo?si=_ZCRbgiuSnqmSwdqLaJr6A
> 
> title taken from a Jimi Hendrix song Purple Haze, included in the playlist

Eventually Star picked herself up from the floor and discreetly walked out of the room. She entered the dressing room of the band, finding only Dwayne and Michael inside.

"Where are the others?" she asked as she threw herself on the couch. It was so soft and nice and it felt so good, _damn._

"David had to talk with Max," said Michael, "And Marko and Paul went to get some gasoline."

Star closed her eyes.

"Do I want to know what they need gasoline for?"

"It's just for Marianna's burial, don't worry," answered Dwayne.

The door opened and David strolled in, looking like his usual, slightly smug, slightly pissy self. He smelled like an ashtray.

"Where are Marko and Paul?" he asked.

"Looking for gasoline," answered Dwayne.

"Oh great, what are we setting on fire this time?" asked David as he decadently draped himself over an armchair.

"This time?" asked Michael, sounding slightly concerned but not too surprised. "Just how often do you guys set things on fire?"

"We're burying Marianna," said Dwayne.

"Hell yeah we are!"

Marko and Paul burst into the room, victoriously holding a dirty looking jug for everyone to see.

"Dwayne, are you proud of us for finding the gasoline so quickly?" asked Paul.

"Concerned more likely," muttered David, a corner of his mouth twitching up before smoothing back out into a scowl.

“But my girl needs a proper burial!”

“Of course,” said Paul and placed the gasoline right on the makeup table, knocking over a lipstick and shoving eyeshadow brushes on the side.

“Is this seat taken?”

Marko was standing between David and another chair. David eyed him suspiciously.

“No.”

“Great!” exclaimed Marko and sprawled all over David’s lap.

"You stink," said David.

Marko lifted his arm and sniffed the armpit.

"Ew. Dwayne, can we shower first?"

Dwayne sighed. "Okay, at least we won't have to do it after."

“Yeah, let’s shower,” agreed David. “You too,” he said, pointing at Michael.

“Uh,” said Michael. “Okay?"

"But there's only one communal bathroom," said Dwayne.

David turned to Star. "If you want to get clean just go to the toilet," he said. "Trust me, you don't want to be close to these idiots when they have access to running water."

"Hey, what was that supposed to mean?" shouted Paul.

"I think he means that time when we flooded the whole floor at the hotel during bathtime," said Dwayne.

"Oh, that time," said Paul, a dreamy expression on his face. "That was awesome."

"I think I'll use the toilet, thanks," said Star.

“Okay, let’s go,” said Paul and dragged Michael out of the room.

* * *

Star opened the doors to the ladies' bathroom. Despite one destroyed mirror, it was surprisingly clean and the soap dispensers still had a considerable amount of soap. She walked up to the sink.

She washed her face and dried it off. She looked in the mirror and recoiled. There was barely a shadow of her reflection seen in the mirror.

She glanced back into the mirror. A ghostly image of her face stared back at her. The eyes and cheeks were sunken and her hair seemed like a stormy cloud.

She moved to the sink with ruined mirror.

There was a now familiar smell in the air.

Star walked to the stall, gently pushing the door open.

Above the toilet there was a girl pushing herself through the window. She whipped her head up, towards Star.

"I swear it's not what it looks like," she said, still panting slightly from the effort.

Star's nostrils flared. She smelled so good and was so _close _and _delicious_ and-

She shook her head.

"You wanted to sneak in to join the band's party, right?"

"Duh," said the girl, not a hint of embarrassment on her face. "Aren't you for that too?"

"Uh," said Star. "I mean we do stuff other than partying, you know."

"Oh, so you're one of their regulars," replied the girl. "Now, can you please give a sister a hand so I can get to know them and do stuff other than partying too?"

Star froze. The thump of the girl's heartbeat was so inviting and she could practically taste the blood on the tongue.

"No," she said, backing away from the stall. "I'm so sorry, but you have to get out of here."

"What the hell?" asked the girl.

"If it was any other band, any other people I'd totally help you, but you really need to go away," Star said, her voice shaking.

"Girl, what's wrong with you?" demanded the girl, unease seeping in her voice.

"Go home, go party with your friends, anything, just avoid The Lost Boys if you can, they're not good for you," said Star. "Trust me, I know better than anyone else," she added quietly.

"Can you tell me what's the matter with them?" asked the girl, a concerned look on her face.

Star shook her head.

"You could come with me," said the girl, offering her hand once again.

"I can't, I really can't," answered Star. "I'm not much better than them, I'm so sorry." She blinked away tears that were misting up her eyes.

"Okay, okay," said the girl, almost like she was trying to calm down a spooked animal. "Hey, if you'll change your mind you can always find me here in San Francisco, okay?" She dug in the pockets of her jacket and pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil stub. She quickly scrawled something on it.

"Here," she said, offering the paper to Star. "This is my phone number, if you ever find yourself in the area, you can always give me a call."

Star hesitantly took the paper. The heat of girl's body was radiant and it made Star want it so, so badly. She didn't know whether to dig in with her teeth or to drop down and start crying.

"Thank you," she said instead, voice hoarse. "I really appreciate it."

The girl nodded in acknowledgement. "I'll be seeing you," she said before squeezing back through the window. Star was left standing alone in the bathroom once again.

She looked down to the paper in her hand.

"SAN FRANCISCO SISTERS WILL ALWAYS HELP YOU OUT"

Underneath that was a phone number. Star carefully folded it and put it in her purse.

She turned back to the sink and continued washing herself.

* * *

"Can anyone please help me with these?" asked Michael, helplessly gesturing at his tight-laced pants.

Paul laughed. "You really need some more practice."

"Yeah, start with loosening the laces from bottom up and you'll get out of them in no time," added Marko.

Michael sighed.

Paul and Marko turned away and started wiggling out of their clothes.

Dwayne patted Michael on the shoulder.

"Good luck," he said, sympathy coloring his voice. He left Michael to struggle with the pants on his own.

A loud crack echoed through the locker room. Paul and Marko already got rid of their pants and were trying to used them as whips. Dwayne very carefully ducked out of the way.

"Ow!" Paul exclaimed in a high-pitched voice as Marko laughed manically.

Michael got to work on his pants. Marko and Paul were playfighting in the background as he worked down his legs. A slightly damp and very stinky piece of clothing hit his head.

"Come on, slowpoke!" shouted Paul. "We're gonna have to get started without you!"

Michael shook the stinky shirt off his head and looked up. Marko and Paul were standing at the other end of the room in all their naked glory.

It was almost strange seeing them without all the accessories and gaudy clothes. Marko looked even smaller without his patchwork jacket and Paul's hair looked almost out of place, looking this extraordinary when the rest of him looked so ordinary.

_Pretty attractive sort of ordinary, though._

Michael shook his head again and very pointedly didn't look at anything other than their faces. He worked to mask _unidentified feelings_ with annoyance.

"Give me a break, I've never had pants like these," he said.

A bang of the doors opening interrupted them. David walked in with a bag of clothes.

"You guys still didn't get started?" he asked.

"No," answered Dwayne, who was in the process of putting away his jewelry. Michael _did not_ look at his ass, which was still clad in briefs. What he _did_ do was stare very furiously at the wall behind Dwayne and pray that his face wasn't too red.

"Aw, don't be so pissy," said Paul. He walked up to David and hugged him.

"You will not sway my mood with your evil hugs," grumbled David but he didn't try to shake Paul off.

Marko took the clothes bag from David and started sorting out the clothes.

"Let's get ready, come on," said Dwayne.

Paul let go of David and helped him put away his coat.

"Do you want help with these?" asked Dwayne.

Michael looked down at his pants. They were still only half undone.

"Yeah."

With Dwayne's help he managed to get out of the pants fairly quickly.

"Thanks," he said, mouth suddenly dry.

David has also managed to get undressed in the meantime, now putting his clothes away with Marko's help. Michael suppressed a snort, remembering the incident from the night they met.

_He really does have a flat ass._

_And yet..._

Michael shook his head and very firmly diverted his attention to the floor. It was kind of grimy.

A loud whoop shook him from his thoughts.

“Mikey boy finally defeated the tight pants!” exclaimed Paul.

“Get those off-” David gestured to Michael's socks and briefs “So we can finally shower.”

Michael nodded. He pulled the socks off. It wasn’t the first time he was among his friends naked. Football team showers got him more than used to being in a room full with his naked peers.

_So why is it so hard now?_

He thumbed the elastic band.

_Whatever you do, do _not _think about hard things now._

He cringed at his own wording and pulled down his briefs.

“The underwear pile is there,” pointed Dwayne.

Michael threw his underwear on the top of others’ clothes. The smell coming from it was almost as potent as the one coming from the shoes. He shuddered and turned away.

* * *

“You can use my shampoo,” said Marko, handing Michael the bottle.

“Thanks.”

“Group shower?” asked Paul.

“Group shower.” confirmed Dwayne.

David, surprisingly, didn’t protest.

Marko slung his arm around Michael’s shoulders, steering him towards the rest of the group.

The showers were open, but they still huddled together as if they tried to cram into one stall. The water was running and slowly warming up.

Paul’s mane was already losing its epic volume under the water. He moved from under the stream, letting David soak.

“So, Mikey,” he said. “How are you holding up?”

The hot water slowly but surely started shrouding the room in steam.

“To be completely honest, there is quite a lot going on,” Michael said. He left out a little bark of laughter. “Like the rock band tour thing wasn’t enough, there is also the _other_ thing.”

Paul nodded understandingly. “No one can judge you for feeling overwhelmed.” He gestured towards the shampoo in Michael's hands. “Can I do your hair?”

Michael looked down at it. “Yeah, sure,” he answered. “I kind of already forgot about it.”

Paul took the bottle and spread a generous dollop over Michael’s hair.

“Do you still need the shampoo?” asked Marko.

“Nope,” answered Paul. “Michael, why don’t you wash Marko’s hair?”

“I’m not sure how much of-” said Michael.

Paul rested his chin on Michael's shoulder.

“You know, as a thanks for letting you use his shampoo,” he said very loudly right into Michael’s ear.

Michael cringed a little.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he hurriedly said. “I just have to let you know that I’m no haircare guru.”

* * *

“You should wash David’s back,” said Paul, leaning on Michael again.

“Uh,” said Michael.

Paul pushed Michael into David. Michael slipped, catching himself on the first thing he could get a hold of.

Which was incidentally David.

“Fuck!”

David helped Michael get back on steady feet.

“Thanks,” said Michael, trying not to blush. “And sorry. You can blame it on Paul.”

David snorted.

“I know, I’m not deaf,” he said. “Are you gonna wash my back now or what?”

He shoved his body wash into Michael’s hands.

Michael automatically took the bottle.

“Uh,” he said intelligently.

David turned around.

Faced with the expecting expanse of David’s back, Michael swallowed the lump in his throat and got to work.

* * *

The air was thick with hot steam, turning the whole bathroom into a sauna. Michael massaged David's back. It felt strangely clammy, a little warm but in an artificial way. His own body wasn't much different, realized Michael. Ever since he accepted that bottle a few nights ago he felt himself growing number, colder. The steam he breathed in made him remember things weren't always so cold.

The hot air didn't feel like warmth. It was more like a memory of it.

Michael shook his head, forcing his attention back onto David. He finished soaping him and patted him on the shoulder.

"Here you go," he said quietly.

David turned around and took his body wash back.

"Thanks."

He lifted his gaze to meet Michael's eyes. A small smile was on his face, so different from his trademark smirk. He moved under the stream of water, washing the soap off his body.

For the first time it seemed like the tension disappeared out of David's frame.

Someone gently elbowed Michael.

"Here you go," said Dwayne, handing him another bottle of body wash. "You gotta soap up too."

"Are you saying I'm stinky?" said Michael as he took the bottle.

"No comment," answered Dwayne, eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Let me help you first," said Michael.

"Alright," said Dwayne, turning around. "Thanks, bud."

* * *

After he finished soaping up Dwayne's back and got a smile and a thank you in return it was his turn to clean his body. Chattering idly the group got themselves rid of grime and smell and as he laughed with the rest, Michael realized that even if his body was so, so cold, it didn't mean that all warmth was lost on him.

* * *

"I picked some random clothes roughly your size," said David as they were done drying up.

They were picking through the fresh clothes, passing each other various pieces.

David tossed Michael his jacket.

"Got your stuff," he said before returning to collecting the plainest, blackest items from the pile.

"Not to sound weird," said Dwayne, "But can you please show me your feet for a moment?"

Michael obliges as Paul almost keels over with giggles.

"Okay, you can borrow my or Paul's socks," said Dwayne. "Did you bring enough of them?" he asked David.

"Duh," answered David. "Here you go," he said and flicked one sock at Michael. For some inexplicable reason it was covered in distorted floral patterns.

"Aw, you got my lucky socks," said Dwayne. "Take care of them."

"You can have-"

Dwayne pushed the offered sock back to Michael.

"Sharing is caring!" exclaimed Paul.

He handed Michael another sock. It was almost knee length, covered in polka dots and with a big hole in the sole.

"Uh," said Michael.

"It'll look good on you!"

"Thanks," he finally said, putting the offered clothing on. "Are there any extra briefs or am I walking around socks on, dick out?"

* * *

Star left the bathroom, clutching the little piece of paper with the girl's number. She went outside, breathing the cool night air. The wind swept her hair and she should have felt it through her flimsy shirt but it was all the same to her.

She read the number she was given before putting it back into her purse. There was a pile of crates at the side of the parking lot. She sat down.

Wind kept blowing, tousling her hair, but she didn't really feel it. She rubbed her hands together for some warmth, but her fingers felt just like dead meat. She stopped.

* * *

_"I hope you don't mind, I know you're a huge fan," said Cindy, looking at Star with her bright pleading eyes._

_How could Star stay angry at her when she was looking at her like that?_

_"If you want you could join us," Cindy continued._

_Star shook her head. "I don't wanna get into drugs. I'd just ruin your fun."_

_Cindy nodded._

_"Always the good girl, right?"_

_Star looked down._

_"Yeah."_

_"You know, I'm so happy you and Matt get along so well. Both of you mean so much to me and I get to have you both here!"_

_Cindy hugged Star. It was firm and warm, but the warmth didn't reach Star._

_"You do what makes you happy," said Star. "Don't worry about me, I wouldn't want to third wheel your date anyway."_

_Cindy playfully smacked Star._

_"Come on, it's not a date!"_

_Star raised an eyebrow._

_"Are you sure about that?"_

_Cindy sighed. "Okay, maybe it is. But you know how well we get along!"_

_"Is that what they're calling it these days?"_

_Cindy laughed and Star joined in, but couldn't really make it as loud and unrestrained as it could have been._

* * *

The doors to the parking lot swung open and The Lost Boys walked out with Michael in their midst.

"There you are!" exclaimed Paul. He rushed to hug Star.

Once she was let go from Paul's octopus grip she took a look the rest of them. They looked uncharacteristically fresh and clean.

"Do you need a change of clothes?" asked Marko.

Star shook her head. "I think I'm good so far."

Marko shrugged. "Whatever you say."

"Are we going to the next town now?" asked Michael.

"We have to give a burial to Marianna first," said Dwayne. He picked up the bag with dirty laundry. "I'm taking this to the bus and getting Marianna."

"We'll help you prepare!" exclaimed Paul and grabbed Marko's hand, dragging him behind.

David sat down on one of the crates around and Star and Michael joined him.

"Is he always like that with guitars?" asked Michael.

David chuckled. "You haven't seen anything yet, just wait for the studio sessions."

"Oh no," mumbled Michael, prompting laughter from Star.

"Tomorrow's the last date of this tour," said David. "And we're playing at Whiskey."

Star whistled appreciatively.

David nodded.

"I really want you two to be at the side of the stage for that."

"Of course," said Michael, a determined look on his face.

Star stared at her own hands, a eyebrows drawn together in a tense line.

"There will be a lot of people there," said David. "Lots of very excited, young people."

He lit a cigarette.

"You'll have to feed before if you don't want to start a bloodbath."

He got up, flicking the ash on the ground.

"I know it's hard to make your first kill, but you better come to terms with it now. Less regrets that way."

He started walking away.

Michael and Star looked at each other wordlessly, alarm mirroring in their eyes.

"Are you coming or not? Marianna is waiting."

David looked over his shoulder and strode towards the bus where Dwayne was standing with arms full of wood.

_"Please _tell me you found out something useful," whispered Michael to Star.

"It's complicated," she answered quietly. "But we can't talk now."

* * *

"Everyone ready?"

The whole group was gathered around the sad pile of wood that was once Dwayne's trusty acoustic. It was doused in gasoline, making the whole area smell toxic.

Everyone murmured their agreements.

"Goodbye Marianna," said Dwayne solemnly. "There will never be an acoustic quite like you."

He nodded to David who threw his cigarette onto the gasoline-soaked ground.

Flames burst into the darkness, completely engulfing the wood that was once a guitar.

They watched the fire with uncharacteristically somber faces. Flames ate away at the wood and danced in the night, dangerously close to everyone's faces.

Smell of burnt flesh spread and Star quickly withdrew her hand, blowing on her burnt fingers. She watched as the skin slowly smoothed itself out, looking again completely healthy and unmarred.

Flames danced into the night, but no one could really feel their warmth.

Michael swung an arm around Star's shoulders, drawing her in. She could feel how cold he was, but there was still a glimmer of hope in her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm editing this at 1am so if there's mistakes my apologies but I really didn't wanna drag out posting this chapter
> 
> hopefully next update will come a lot sooner but who knows

**Author's Note:**

> don't forget to tell me what you think about my fic, either in the comments or by sending me asks or messages on my Tumblr @isvampirismgay
> 
> thank you for reading!


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